I love roleplay phone sex. And I do not even mind a little violence mixed in. I have made my share of cosplay porn. And trust me in the seedy underworld of snuff that I travel, I’ve been everything from a schoolgirl to a witch in these sorts of porno films. A director that I work with often because he’s got the greatest coke called me up. Usually, I call him begging for a gig so I can earn some money. But this time he called me because he had a client who wanted to do a Halloween themed porn. Of course, I said yes.
And I didn’t really think about the particulars. I never ask the right questions. Hell, most of the time I never ask any questions except for how much money or how much coke I will receive. Because that’s all I care about. But not asking questions gets me in trouble every time.
When I arrived at the studio, I didn’t see the usual people there. Clearly, this would not be a big production snuff porn. But it didn’t matter if the film would be seen by only one person or many. Because I just did it for the money.
My director friend sent me a script, and it seemed harmless enough. I would be a witch being punished for casting spells on people. However, it seemed a little unclear what my punishment might be. And once again, my dumbass did not ask questions. I had tunnel vision. I just wanted the coke. Well turns out that me being a witch wasn’t all of the story. This cosplay porn had a medieval torture theme. First, my costar hung me from a scaffold and whipped me. Whipped so hard the flesh tore from my body.
I knew I would regret this. Because I started to regret it once I felt blood trickling down my back. It felt like medieval torture sex. Although I’ve been tortured sexually most of my life, this felt like nothing I experienced before. My costar inserted this device that looked like a steel cone in my ass. Although I’ve had bigger things up my ass before I had never experienced anything like this. My costar cranked it, and it turned my asshole inside out, causing it to bleed profusely. This felt worse than anything my ass experienced before, and my ass has experienced a lot.
More torture occurred. But nothing topped that steel cone in my ass. By the time this film concluded, I looked like a bloody swollen mess. However, I did have my money. However, honestly, I don’t think it feels worth it. Because now I’m out of commission for a bit. And it’ll be a while before anybody can fuck my ass again. Why do I never ask the right questions or any questions for that matter? One of these days I will end up dead.
Men have rape phone sex fantasies. And I cannot escape those fantasies. Every time I meet a stranger, especially a younger one, he seems hell bent on fucking me like a whore. And usually, I find myself powerless in those situations. So, I let the men do whatever they want to me. It’s a matter of survival. And I have learned that it’s best to just take your punishment regardless if you think you deserve it or not.
Saturday night, I went barhopping. And although I’m not a big drinker, I find that most of the blue collar guys in these dive bars, share their coke and weed with me. For the most part, the blue collar guys don’t harm me. But this one bar I went to did not appear to be the dive bar I expected.
When I walked in, I only saw yuppie types. Men in suits drinking hipster beer like Pabst Blue Ribbon. Gross. That beer has been around since I was a little girl, and I think it tastes just as nasty. I’d rather drink bong water.
But since I am a taboo phone sex whore, I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time. These yuppie type men looked at me like a piece of candy, and they hadn’t eaten in days. I think they wanted to fight over who fucked me first. Also, I think they assumed that because I came alone, I must be looking to get fucked. But I walked into that bar to get high not to get fucked.
Even though I could feel all those suit and tie guys checking me out, I sat at the bar and drank a glass of boxed wine before heading home. But somebody pulled me off the barstool and dragged me across the bar. They tossed me on top of the pool table. This almost felt like bad movie scene. A bad porn movie scene. It felt like whoever pulled me across the bar had such a good grip on my hair that I would lose some hair.
The night became a blur to me. I think the bartender put something in my drink. Maybe this place worked like that. Men tip the bartender heavily to drug a female patron’s drink, and then when the drug kicks in they gang bang her in the back of the bar. I did not go to that bar to be a gangbang rape porn star. But unfortunately, it’s me. Wherever I go men, feel the need to take advantage of me. But this night I only drank a couple glasses of shitty boxed wine. And that would not help me with what these men did to me.
On that pool table, they fucked me not only with their cocks. But they also used pool sticks and beer bottles and their own fists to fuck my pussy and ass. Most of the night seems to be a big blur to me. But I still have a gaped ass that’s partially prolapsed, a swollen cunt, and lots of bruises on my body. It’s never the men you suspect of being capable of such violence against a woman. I guess I better stick to the dive bars I know and stay away from yuppie bars. Apparently, those boys fell nothing but rage, especially for a redheaded milf like me.
I’ve made a lot of gangbang rape porn in my life. However, none of that was completely consensual. But I guess that’s the point, right? Men don’t want to do it if the woman’s into it. And they don’t want to watch it if it’s clearly looking like she’s begging for this to happen to her.
Most of the porn I’ve done qualifies in my mind as desperation porn. Stuff that I have done simply to earn money to get cocaine or to get myself out of some sort of trouble. The fastest way to money is using your body as a woman. But the older you get , the more used you get, and you can no longer command the same amount of money that you once could. So, you must start doing the more extreme shit. You need to start doing the stuff that you see on snuff phone sex sites.
I needed money badly this weekend. And oddly enough, I did not need money to buy cocaine. I had plenty of that. However, I wrecked my husband‘s Lexus under the influence. No bad weather to blame it on. And I didn’t think my husband would believe somebody hit me. So, I needed to earn some money to fix it. But this body shop that could do the work quickly for an extra fee before my husband came home from his business trip wanted 10 grand and I did not have 10 grand.
So, I went down to the wrong part of town and started selling my fuck holes. I told every guy anything goes. And if they wanted to be rough, it was $100 more. That’s how I made my money offering rough sex. Telling these random Johns they could do anything to me.
One guy, a bus driver for a public school, wanted to buy the football team the opportunity to gangbang an old MILF. And that’s how I made most of the money to pay this body shop. Everybody pulled their resources, and I got about five grand out of them. But they did fuck me hard. They tied me up and force fucked my ass, my mouth and my pussy. Teen boys getting all their aggression out on this sexy mommy.
And they got rough with mommy. Choking me, gagging me, spitting on me, fisting me, even pissing on me. A few of them punched me, slapped me, kicked me too. But at least I had coke to get high. If my husband came home from his business trip and saw his prized car, looking like that he would know his wife still used coke. So, I had to take the abuse. I had to be their ass rape porn whore.
It went on for hours because I let them pay more money for round two. Perhaps I liked it more than I thought I would because of their age. These young teenage boys reminded me of my own sons. And these boys treated me like nothing more than a piece of meat. Mommy fuck meat to abuse. So young yet so full of aggression and hatred towards a mature woman. That both excited me and scared me at the same time.
I spent the better part of 12 hours down in the warehouse district letting men abuse me for a fee. Nobody fucked me quite as hard as that group of teenage boys and the bus driver, but all my holes got stretched and filled with cock and cum. And I earned enough money to fix my husband‘s car before he came home from his business trip. Once again, I used my body to dodge a bullet.
I hate torture phone sex. Although I am submissive, I just never know what will happen. Everybody’s idea of torture seems to be different. Sometimes I might just get spanked. Other times I might get four fists up my ass at once.
It’s the same gamble when I answer looking for adult models ads. I only do it for cash to get coke. On Friday night, I showed up at this guy‘s house. This was not a studio production. This guy just wanted a whore to abuse.
So, this felt more like a prostitution gig versus nude modeling. He lived in the suburbs. And I checked him out to verify his identity first. He seemed like a normal suburban dad. Perfect family, and a good job. Minivan and an SUV in the driveway. Apparently, his wife and daughters went out of town to see the wife’s mother.
I figured he just needed a nasty slut to pound for a couple hours and get some aggression out. How dangerous could a suburban Dad be to me. Well, as usual, I thought wrong. This man appeared full of rage, and he took it out all on me. I came within inches of making a snuff porn.
He started spanking me, but that quickly proved boring to him. While I laid across his lap, he shoved his fist up my ass and turned me into a puppet. And while he suspended me in the air with just his fist up my ass, he took his other fist and shoved it up my cunt. And neither hole did he use any type of lubrication. He wanted me to feel it. And I did feel it.
He dropped me on the floor and kicked me in the gut a few times while I was down. I curled up in a ball to protect myself, and he just scooped me up and tossed me across the wall. It felt like I hit a brick wall. I did not even put a hole in the wall, but my head appeared to be bleeding because I could taste blood as it trickled down my face. When I told him I did not sign up for this, he grabbed me hard by the throat and penned me against the wall. Then he punched me in the stomach until I puked.
And he got super angry that I puked. I tried to explain that I could not help but puke under the circumstances. But he pushed my face in my own puke like a dog that pissed on his rug. I tried my hardest not to puke again as I licked up my own fucking vomit. Every time I tried to come up, he put his foot on the back of my head and shoved me right back down in it. And while he pinned me down, he pissed on me and made me drink it up off the floor too. This man teaches high school history. How stressful can that be to be this angry?
But he seemed filled with rage. And I had no clue where that rage came from. All I knew was that all his rage seemed directed at me. Honestly, I think he would’ve killed me if he did not get a text from his wife saying one of their daughters became sick and they needed to return home early. It surprised me that he even paid me what we agreed on.
I think the payment bought my silence more than anything else. He did not have time to kill me, thankfully. So, I guess his daughter getting ill saved my life. I didn’t mind being his ass rape porn slave, But I didn’t want to die. However, I know, every day I get closer to running out of my nine lives.
When I went to the adult bookstore to get a new vibrator, I had no plans to be at a gangbang rape porn star. I minded my own business. And I went straight to the back to pick out a new vibrator. But as I was looking at the different models, I could feel eyes on me. When I glanced sideways, I saw a bunch of bikers looking at me. They appeared to be waiting for some glory action, but they got distracted when they saw me.
I felt nervous because they had a sinister look in their eyes. And I’m no stranger to that look. I grabbed a dildo and started to hustle back up to the cashier, but one of the bikers grabbed my long red hair, pulled me back towards him and said, “Not so fast Missy.”
With one hand, he had my red hair wrapped around his wrist very tightly while his other hand pulled his cock out of his pants. His biker buddies all pulled their pants down too. And I knew I would need to suck some cock to get out of this place. I just prayed that if I sucked their cocks and made them cum, I could still get out of the adult bookstore relatively unscathed.
But I am a redheaded taboo phone sex slut. And trouble follows me wherever I go. So, you know, I did not fare well. Soon after swallowing their loads of cum, they made me strip naked and hoisted me up on a table. I felt so exposed. And I knew nothing good would come of this. They weren’t just going to fuck me and give me cocaine. They just planned on fucking me.
They started fish hooking my mouth, pinching my tits, and fisting my ass and my cunt. Ouch. This happened to me sober. So, I could not enjoy what they did to me. A fist up a dry hole really hurts sober. And it hurts the next day when I’m on cocaine but at least I don’t feel it in the moment. They seem to be hellbent on making me feel everything.
In hindsight, I don’t think they went to the adult bookstore for glory hole action. I think they planned to wait for some dumb cunt to come into the sex store so they could explore their rape phone sex fantasies with her. And in walked this dumb cunt.
But they let me live. It could’ve been worse. But my ass and my cunt took a severe beating. Luckily, I had enough coke at home to nurse the pain. But it just sucks that I received no compensation for my suffering. Just their cum and their fists in my holes, but no money or coke.
I recently discovered that I don’t have to be the only ass rape porn star in my family. As I age, my fuck holes don’t hold the same allure that they once did to drug dealers. I’m in my 40s. And I guess you could say I have a high mileage asshole and cunt. But my nephew had a brilliant idea. Turn my sons into the anal sex slaves. Although I felt guilty about it when he first suggested it to me, I quickly got over it after six drug dealers told me I looked too used up for them to fuck. And I had no cash for coke.
So, with my nephew’s help, we decided to profit off my boys tight puckered assholes. I placed a few ads online and immediately got a bunch of hits. My nephew told me he would give up his ass for the cause too, but I think he might naturally swing that way. However, my boys seem straight as arrows.
My nephew also suggested that we stream the anal gangbang rape porn to make even more money. He didn’t even want some of the money. I am so grateful to him because he really helped me make a lot of money. Of course, my sons did most of the work, but it was all his idea.
I had to drug my sons with some Molly so they would be a little less feisty. When the guys with the highest bids to fuck my sons’ assholes arrived, I could see the panic in sons’ eyes. And I knew this might ruin our mother son dynamic, but I needed money. I needed coke. Eventually, they would get over it. Hell, they might even like it I told them. They didn’t like it. Not even with the Molly. Not even with the poppers that my nephew brought too.
Those men fucked my two sons and my nephew for hours. I’m used to hearing chimes pour in when my stepson does a live streaming show with me. But this time the chimes were for my boys. Their little butt holes took a beating. They looked like raw hamburger. And they had a nice gape to them also.
I felt like a bad mom. But all the money that we made off those boy butts in the live stream might just give me enough coke to last a year. OK, maybe not a year. This taboo phone sex mommy can out snort Al Pacino in Scarface. But at least now I know that if I can’t make money off my fuck holes, I can pimp out my sons and make money off their tight back door pussies. And my nephew‘s back door pussy too.
Men have rape phone sex fantasies for women. I’ve known this most of my life. I’ve experienced it most of my life. Usually, in some way, I’m asking for it. I know that goes against the grain of feminism, but I’m not a feminist. I’m a druggie whore and because of my cocaine addiction, I often put myself in dangerous situations. However, last night, I was just sleeping.
As I woke up to use the restroom, I noticed my husband sitting in the chair, but that seemed odd to me. Was I dreaming? I wiped the sleep from my eyes and turned on the little night light. And that’s when I saw his face. A stranger. And he was holding a knife to my husband’s throat. He looked at me with steel eyes, told me to get back into bed and spread my legs. I did as he told me because it appeared my husband’s life depended on it.
This intruder tied my husband up. And then he forced him to watch him fuck his wife. I had no coke. So, I felt way too sober for a home invasion phone sex fantasy, but I had no choice. This did not seem like a fantasy. I did my best to just get through it. And I thought I did. Once the guy nutted inside me, he dismounted and looked at my husband and told him that I had some good fuck meat.
I told my husband I would be OK. My husband doesn’t know half the shit that I’ve let happen to me over the years just to score some free cocaine. Little home invasion combined with some forced fucking seemed minor in comparison.
But this asshole was not finished with us yet. He woke up our boys and made them come into the bedroom. He told them that if they did not fuck me, he would slit all our throats. Now this guy does not have any clue that I already fuck my boys. But I know how sick minds work thanks to this job.
So, I acted like I didn’t want to violate the sacred mother son bond. But he pressed the knife against my youngest son’s throat, just enough to make him bleed a little. So, I told my boys it would all be OK, and to just do what he says. And my boys knew they needed to act like they didn’t want to do this either.
After each of my sons fucked me, this guy got hard again and decided to make me his ass rape porn star too. So, my boys and my husband had to watch him violate my asshole. Perhaps somebody should nominate me for an academy award. I think I made that intruder truly believe that he ruined my life. I think the only one to truly be distraught over the events that transpired in my bedroom that night was my husband. The next day, my boys told me they thought I arranged it. Not this time.
Snuff phone sex fantasies most men have. And for whatever reason men like that gravitate to me. It’s like they have a six sense and feel my vulnerability and my desperateness for coke. But last night, I walked into a lair of killer men.
I decided to go barhopping last night. I had no intention of getting into too much trouble. Maybe suck a few dicks and get some coke. Have some fun and crawl back into bed with my husband. And my plan seemed to be working. Most of the guys I blew appeared to be normal guys. Just partying because they did not need to work today. I have long found that the night before a holiday, the bars get packed with men just looking to blow off some steam.
But one of the bars I walked into had a much different vibe than the others. A darker vibe. A new bar. I should have called it quits before I came here. Apparently, this bar doubles as a snuff porn studio too. Women walk into the bar, but they rarely walk out. And I discovered the hard way what this place was really all about. Apparently for the men, it’s a membership only place that cums with a healthy price tag. Men pay half 1 million a year to visit this bar. But what they get for their money seems priceless according to the members.
When an unsuspecting woman like me stumbles into this mysterious new bar, she finds herself in the labyrinth of hell. Different rooms provide its own form of hell for a woman. I felt like I walked into something out of Eli Roth’s movie Hostel. I literally walked across broken glass. And that disabled me. When I fell to my knees, men dick slapped me, and skull fuck me. As my feet bled, I felt shards of glass digging into my knees.
That felt like nothing. The next room men strapped me to a slab of concrete and tortured me with electrical currents until I pissed myself. I hate being shocked. And this seemed more elaborate than anything I experienced before. Most men just use a cattle prod on me. But this contraption included little stickers they attached to the most sensitive parts of my body. They shocked me in unison. Pure torture sex. They even put stickers inside my cunt and over my asshole too. So, that explains why I pissed and shit myself in the bar.
I didn’t make it through all the rooms in that bar. But only because I knew one of the guys in this torture den. My husband‘s brother. Never in 1 million years thought I’d see him in a place like this. So, I guess that goes to show you that you can’t always judge a book by its cover.
This guy is a money market man. He manages the wealth of a lot of people in our community. When I recognized him, I thought for sure he killed me just to keep his secret. But he thought about my boys and did not want them to lose their mother. So, he showed me the trap door that allowed me to escape.
But I smelled like piss. And burning flesh. My knees and my feet bled. And I did not have my clothes. A homeless man in an alley gave me some old dirty clothes to wear so that I could get home. Thank God, my husband takes Ambien at night. He slept through me coming home showering and crawling back into bed with him like nothing happened. But no doubt he might notice that I’m limping today. It’s hard to walk when your feet hurt from shards of glass.
I still can’t believe I saw my brother-in-law in a place like that. And I know for a fact that this likely will come back to bite me in the ass. Just like my stepson owns me. I think my brother-in-law does now too. But now I know a bar to avoid like the plague. I had no idea that something so sinister even existed in my small town. I should’ve stopped barhopping before I even got to this macabre torture chamber masking as a bar.
I have the perfect ass for ass rape porn. At least that’s what directors always tell me. When I was younger, I bought the line that they could put me in movies. I just didn’t know what kind of movies they had in mind. But it was much different than what I thought they meant. Now, I’m a bona fide hardcore anal porn star. Just most of my movies appear very violent and rough and can only be found on the dark net.
And I really don’t care who sees me on the Internet. My husband seems more concerned about optics than me. Fuck those stuck-up trophy wives. If they happen to see my pictures on the dark net, then they’re on the dark net for a reason. So, they’ll likely never say anything to me. That’s always been my philosophy about it.
Recently, the dad of one of my son’s soccer buddies showed up late at night. I thought he was looking for a son who was not with us. But as it turns out, he was there for me. And this did not look like a friendly visit. He started yelling at me, calling me names. Lots of vulgar names too. My husband would’ve put him in his place if he was home. However, he took the boys on a fishing weekend. Leaving me home alone. Was this dad stalking me?
This guy started claiming I make snuff porn. And although true, I denied it. Deny deny deny. But that only seemed to anger him. So, I confessed. Told him about my drug addiction. However, I think he already knew. He held up a big bag of coke and said it was all mine if he could just take that ass. Normally I wouldn’t think twice. I take the bag of coke and do whatever the guy wants. But the guy looked angry. And he looked like he planned to take it out all on me.
I did what he wanted because my bigger issue might have become would he tell my husband all the naughty things I’ve done to get coke. So, in the bed that I sleep with my husband, I let the soccer dad violate my ass. And for white guy, he had one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever seen. This dude looked his cock measured over a foot long. That’s a lot of dick for my ass. Ouch.
However, a big dick never stopped me from being a whore. Midway through the rough anal sex, I began to doubt my decision. He had what a lot of women in the adult industry call the punisher cock. That just means a cock so big even when it’s just fucking you it feels violent. And everything about that soccer dad felt violent. He had a lot of anger in him, and he took it out on my ass. Of course, after the third thrust my ass prolapsed. And I guess I should feel grateful he didn’t zip tie it like my son does. But he kept trying to push it back inside just to rip it out again.
I kept praying that his stamina would give out. But he showed my ass no mercy. This felt like pure anal torture sex. And he threw in some choking, slapping and fisting of my cunt too. I felt so violated. And I know now this means he owns me. I traded my ass for Coke. And with a soccer dad. This is not some snuff director. I thought this guy was just a normal dad. But then I guess I bring out the worst in every man I meet.
Necrophilia phone sex turns a lot of men on. Men like me to play dead. However, there are men out there who want me dead before they fuck me. And I try to avoid men like that. But I’m not always successful. I owe this one drug dealer, Jimmy, a lot of money. It’s from many years ago, but I guess he never forgot the debt.
To a man like him, what I owe is minuscule. But to me, it seems like a lot. It’s hard sometimes for a druggie whore to scrape up a few grand. But Jimmy threatened my family, so I got desperate to find the money somehow. And the seedy under world of snuff porn is a quick way to make some serious cash. But it’s also a way to become seriously dead too.
So, I started pounding the pavement. I’m a little bit long in the tooth as they say. But that does not mean I can’t find somebody to work with me. It just means I must go deeper underground to find somebody willing to work with a used up old whore like me. And I found Dave. He would pay me what I owe Jimmy, plus 500 extra to go towards my next coke purchase. But I had to play dead. At least I hoped I was just playing dead.
Dave serves as a go-between. A go between talent and private collectors. Guys who like the one and done sort of movies, but I know how to play that well. As it turned out this little film that got me out of financial trouble almost cost me my life. I showed up per my instructions.
And I glammed myself up. Apparently, the collector of the snuff flick I was about the star in likes a lot of makeup. And 80s style hair to take him back to the days when girls rejected him. I think this man is a former incel. The kind of man who cannot get pussy. At least he could not get pussy in the 80s when he was a teenager. Even though he has a lot of money now thanks to some smart investments, he still hates women.
The movie got rough. Of course, I can handle the rough fucking, but this guy did a lot of rough choking and slapping and strangling. I honestly thought I would die. But then I remembered the director saying just play dead. The guy is old. As soon as he takes your life, he’ll stop.
So, I tried to make my body lifeless with his hands around my throat. And it worked. I managed to get my entire body limp and unresponsive to his touch. But I’m not sure how I managed that. I really thought I was on that last of my nine lives there. However, the guy gave up once he thought I was dead. He paid Dave the money for the film. And once he was gone, I stood up, gasped for air, took my money and ran out of there.
I guess at least the guy did not enjoy sex with dead bodies or he might’ve realized I was just playing dead. My cunt would twitch and betray me if he fucked my “corpse.” However, my body acted just as he wanted. Just how he expected. He will always think he choked this 80s glam babe to her death, but once again, I came out on top.
