The life of a taboo phone sex whore never seems dull. And that’s because we only look like soccer moms. But we never act like them, at least not in the traditional sense. I go through a lot more cocaine over the holidays than I do any other time of the year.
And that always leads towards poor decision making. Earlier, trying to get cocaine, I found myself on a live auction feed where men planned on selling me to the highest bidder for God knows what. I dodged that bullet, but I came under fire again, two days later.
With my sons inviting so many bonus boys over for the holiday weekend I needed energy to keep up with them. Coke gives mature women the energy they need to keep up with young teenage lovers.
Plus, I had to deal with my sisters-in-law too. And that’s never pleasant for me. After all these years and two sons later, they still think of me as a trashy gold digger. And just for the record I no longer spend my husband ‘s money on cocaine. I earn it the old-fashioned way, even if it puts me in harm’s way.
I met with this drug dealer recently who I try to avoid. He’s one of the biggest producers of snuff porn in my state. But he’s known for paying a woman very well to star in one of his films. The problem is you might end up with a broken bone or two because he likes his films to look real. So, I know it’s always a gamble with him, but I also know he’s legit. Just violent. He appeared happy to see his favorite redheaded soccer mom too. He told me he planned on calling me to make me a sweet deal.
A very rich collector of snuff films reached out to him. He wanted a violent mommy son video where the son explores his rape fantasies for his mommy on film. But he would punch mommy, kick mommy and restrain her while destroying her fuck holes. I’m no stranger to rough sex. And I needed his money because I was starting to lose my energy. Plus, I ran out of Coke the night before. I needed this gig as much as he needed a willing, redheaded soccer mom.
Luckily, the film lasted no more than an hour. But I did not escape unscathed. I did get my cocaine though. A huge bag of it too, but I earned every penny of it. My costar punched me and violently fucked my pussy and ass. This felt like an extreme ass rape porn. Destroyed my butt hole on film with his monster cock and even his fist.
I still have ligature marks around my neck from where he tried to strangle me. I needed to wear a turtleneck, so my husband did not see the marks. He broke a couple of ribs and my nose too. So, I told my husband I fell down the stairs.
I survived, but I look like I met Mike Tyson in the ring. But luckily, I have a big bag of cocaine for all the pain. And I’m a creative liar. I can make my husband believe anything. I’m sure he does not want to know what a truly sick bitch he married. I willingly endured that kind of pain just for a fix. And I will do it again in a couple days too.
Bondage phone sex sluts never shop on Black Friday. We prefer to get high on holidays and any day. I told my husband I needed money to go shopping for Black Friday. But he knows about my cocaine use. He just doesn’t know how much I use. So, he wouldn’t give me any money. He told me I could have his credit cards to shop with, but no cash. And drug dealers don’t take credit cards. Not even nowadays. So, I had to find my money elsewhere.
I answered an ad in a paper looking for a bondage whore. I’ve been tied up plenty of times. So, I figured no big deal right. I showed up at this warehouse where the guy I spoke to on the phone told me to go. Anything down in the docks feels unsafe as well as unsavory. But when I’m desperate for cocaine money, I don’t have much choice.
Two guys greeted me at the door. One of them obscured his face with an executioner’s mask. Seeing him like that, scared the fuck out of me. And with good reason. The guy I talked to was simply the snuff porn director. The one filming it all.
The executioner guy tied me up. He set it up to look like a slave auction. The director filmed it, but it seemed more like a live stream than a snuff flick. The executioner whipped me so hard I could feel blood dripping down my back.
However, I suddenly realized this livestream was not necessarily for viewers to jack off watching. A real bidding war ensued. I tried to play dumb so that I could figure out how to get myself out of this situation. I quickly realized I would not be leaving if I didn’t get creative.
The executioner started whipping me with a variety of objects. All of them made me feel like a slave in the 1400s. And apparently the director wanted to sell me like one too. What the fuck did I get myself into? I acted like I passed out. My threshold for pain increases every year. So, I can handle flesh peeling from my body.
They thought they broke me. And at that moment they cut me down. And I ran like a bat out of hell. Barefoot, bleeding and with ripped clothes. I did not even collect my money because I knew no money existed. I fell for a scam. These men planned on selling me to the highest bidder online for God knows what.
I’m certain I just escaped a snuff phone sex death. Because whoever they sold me to would use me until they grew bored and then they would kill me. Luckily, I left my keys in the car so I could drive home and clean myself up before my husband came home. He never knows how close to death I often get because of my drug habit. But in my defense, if he would just give me money for cocaine, I would not risk my life like I do.
Some women require domination phone sex more than others. And I guess I’m one of those women. At least that’s what these men always tell me. Since Thanksgiving occurs this week, I am forced to see my in-laws. And that means I needed more cocaine.
Since I trade my pussy and ass and even my hands and mouth for coke, I knew I would need to visit a few drug dealers. My holes no longer appear top notch. I am a used up a little soccer mom from the suburbs who can’t command top dollar. So, I can’t just fuck for money. Men put me through hell, but I let them just for a fix. I prefer to go through life high as a kite.
Recently, one of my drug dealers cut me off, forcing me to look for a new source. And I found these two Russian low life mobster type men. I didn’t ask too many questions so I’m not sure what they do outside of the drug world. If I had to guess I would say sex trafficking primarily. But I know nobody wants a used-up mommy whore. I figured they might want to make a gangbang rape porn with me. Live stream and profit off it like my stepson does. But these guys wanted to break me.
They didn’t fuck me. And hindsight, I would’ve preferred that they did. What they did to me involved torturous mind games. Like the kind of torture the military or the CIA on its enemies to get the truth. That psychological torture combined with whipping the flesh off my body broke a bitch who thought she was already broken. But they did that so I would do whatever the fuck they wanted. When I saw Seabiscuit, I got perplexed. What the fuck did they want me to do next.
Even broken, afraid and battered, I knew I did not want to take a ride on a pony. What the fuck was wrong with these people. What the fuck was wrong with me. Oh yeah, that monkey on my back made me literally suck a monster cock. The biggest cock ever. And these two low life Russian mobsters filmed it. This thing felt big and slimy. And the smell made me gag. I felt sorry for this beast. I’m sure he didn’t want to be here anymore than I did.
Once that thing blew a load down my throat and on my face, they forced me to lick up all the chunks of pungent cum. Nasty as fuck. These Russian dudes don’t mess around. At least it didn’t turn into a snuff film when that four-legged creature impaled my pussy. They bent me over a bale of hay. And made it all work. Clearly, they’ve made these sorts of sick films before and hopefully this was my last time going for them for anything. Now I really have sore holes. Probably more gaped than ever before. But we can thank Mr. Ed for the anal torture sex.
I never intentionally plan on being a gangbang rape porn star. But it just happens. Sometimes I’m asking for it by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes I am paid for it because I’m desperate for money to score some cocaine. However, most of the time I’m just minding my own business someplace and my very existence makes men want to do bad things to me.
I went to this underground party a couple nights ago. Sort of like a rave. This guy I know told me about it and said it was a great place to party, score some drugs, and have fun. It sounded like a good opportunity for me to make new friends and score some cocaine. But I should’ve known it was a set up. There was no rave. No underground party. Just a bunch of men waiting for a dumb ass bitch like me to show up so they could explore their rape phone sex fantasies.
I am not talking about one guy or even two guys. That I felt confident I could handle. This appeared to be an army of men. And they acted like they had mommy issues that they needed to explore. As soon as I entered this very dark and quiet underground bunker, I realized I would be attending a rave. At least no party I wanted to join. But when I tried to run, a guy grabbed me by my red hair, yanked me back with such force that I ended up slamming against the wall.
As I laid dazed and confused on the floor, these men started kicking me, pissing on me and ripping my clothes off. They broke me so they could fuck me. Took the fight out of me. I may not be book smart, but I am street smart. So, I knew not to fight again.
I let those men play musical holes with my pussy, mouth and ass. And I told myself I’ve done far worse things. But at least I did those things for cocaine. I was not a willing participant in this little ass rape porn movie they wanted to make with me.
But like anything eventually, it ended. However, by then I appeared covered in cum. My nose started bleeding. My entire body hurt, and I smelled like a toilet. But because I’m scrappy, I survived. Those men didn’t break me. I was broken long before them. But at least I know how to survive.
Do you have rape phone sex fantasies? If you do, you might be in the right spot. I especially enjoy rape fantasies for mommy. And until I went down the rabbit hole of cocaine, I honestly did not know how many men possess such fantasies for mommy. It seems to be no secret that I do anything for coke or the money to buy coke. Sometimes I meet men who just take me with no reward.
And I never mind providing that sort of fantasy, but I do want something in return for it. However, Adam had no clue that I give up my fuck holes easily. But he didn’t strike me as the type of man who wanted fantasy. This guy saw me as nothing more than a dirty redheaded whore, and his personal ass porn star. Apparently, he drugged my drink at the bar, and it kicked in as I arrived home.
Unfortunately, for me, I was home alone because my sons spent the night at a friend ‘s house and my husband went out of town to visit his sisters who hate me. I stumbled into my house drunk. But apparently, he was right on my heels and pushed me inside. Locked the door, pulled out his cock and fucked me. Slapped me around a bit, calling me a cock tease at the bar. I barely remembered talking to him.
Although I tried to fight him, I appeared too intoxicated to fight much. When I puked, he shoved my face in it like a dog who pissed the carpet. I tried to talk my way out of this, but I appeared unsuccessful. And I did not know if he planned on killing me or not. So, I told myself to lie there and pray it would be over soon.
He called me mommy as he rammed his cock in and out of my pussy and ass choking me at the same time. I knew I would not get any coke out of this. Not even any money. I think this would be considered a crime of opportunity. A sexy drunk mature woman leaves a bar and he seized his opportunity.
Eventually, he left. He ordered me to shower first. I guess to wash away any DNA in case I went to the cops. This is not my first rodeo. I’m a seasoned snuff sex slut. I just felt grateful to be alive. But I know eventually one round with the wrong man will kill me. What is it about me that brings out the worst in men?
I get a lot of calls for snuff phone sex. And I’m OK with that. It’s only a secret from my husband that I have a dark side. My husband would be shocked to discover some of the rough things I enjoy. Plus, I feel it would shock him to know what his son from his first marriage enjoys doing to me. But every wife keeps a few secrets, right? Perhaps, I keep more than the average woman.
In my life, I’ve experienced so many dark encounters that sometimes they blur together. Of course, I’m usually fucked up on coke when these encounters occur and that does not help my memory. I ran into a guy last night at a bar I stopped at to party for a little bit. It’s just a local dive bar, but all the blue-collar men that go there share their coke with me. Maybe I give a few hand jobs or blowjobs in exchange. But it’s nothing like the things I’m used to doing in the snuff sex world for coke.
One man in the bar looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. But apparently, he knew me and he remembered me. A few years ago, when I let myself get too fucked up, him and his friends picked me up walking home. They didn’t take me home. At least not to my home.
They took me to a fishing cabin in the woods. And they gangbanged me and left me to find my way home. It started to come back to me. I did not want a repeat performance. This man and his friends used me for hours and abandoned me in the middle of nowhere and I didn’t even get any coke out of it.
I played dumb. I’m pretty good at that. But I did not want to be alone with this man. And I certainly did not want to get into a car with him either. But I think he spiked my drink because suddenly I felt woozy and my brain felt scrambled. So, I looked for the nearest bathroom, and I locked myself in there thinking the feeling would pass.
That didn’t work. The man picked the lock, came into the bathroom and instead of pissing in the toilet he pissed on me. The bar appeared packed with people. And the music seemed cranked up to the highest decimal because you could feel the walls vibrating from the bass.
I did not know how to get out of this situation. So, I gave up. This guy would do whatever the fuck he wanted to me once again. But at least this time I wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of nowhere, naked and afraid. He turned me into his ass rape porn star bent over a dirty toilet in a dive bar. Although I screamed many times, nobody could hear me. Even if they could, I’m not their problem.
He thrust his cock in and out of my ass so hard that my forehead kept banging the ceramic top of the toilet, leaving a huge bruise. And he left me with a concussion too. I woke up smelling like a urinal and covered in cum. My asshole prolapsed and a little note that said he enjoyed me better the second time around. I managed to get home before my husband woke up. But just barely. One of these days my husband will realize what a dirty bitch he married.
My son paid me a visit this week to make an ass rape porn. He could never stay away too long even though I think he tries. He just loves his mommy’s big boobs and big cock sucking lips. Of course, he turned mommy into a bimbo slut for his live stream shows. And I never minded looking like a bimbo or letting him fuck me up on camera because in exchange he gives me the best cocaine ever.
And he arrived at the right time because I appeared bone dry and desperate for coke. I would’ve ended up going to see somebody far worse than him. He loves my bony ass, my big cunt lips, my gaped pussy and of course, my prolapsed ass. First thing he did was kiss his mommy and show me the big bag of pink cocaine he brought me. He let me do a line before he fisted my asshole. He turned me into his fuck meat puppet. Yanked my hair and dragged me in front of the camera. He made me fishhook my mouth and slap myself a few times too.
He loves torture sex with mommy. So, he skull fucked me, turning my mouth into his cock sleeve. My throat bulged with his cock. And I’m sure to the viewing audience, it looked like I swallowed an anaconda. Well, he shoved his big cock down my throat, he punched my fun bags, and he kicked me in the sides too. Plus a few sucker punches to the stomach and ribs. When he pulled out the zip ties, I knew punching me served as warmup.
He let me snort some more coke as he continued to punch my two huge bowling balls. Eventually, he had to yank my face from the bowl of cocaine. And luckily, he lets me do some because it dulls the pain. No doubt my fun bags looked like they might pop anytime soon.
I thought the zip ties might be for my hands but silly me. He brought them for my tits. And he tied them up like torpedoes. They looked like they might burst and I think one of them did burst cause I’m all lopsided today. But my son will fix my tits with the money he earned from the live stream show.
And it’s no wonder my boobs need some repair. He had those zip ties way down at the base cutting off the circulation to my boobs. But I think the baseball bat he took to each tit really did the damage. On camera, he beat my tits lopsided, punched me in the head, and tried to choke me out with a belt. Just part of a live stream with my boy.
Although he enjoys torturing my boobs, my ass serves as his cock sleeve. He spends most of his time abusing mommy‘s already gaped and prolapsed asshole. He made me push out my prolapse for the camera, and when I did, he zip tied my ass on the outside. And then I saw the plastic bag, and I realized this might quickly turn into a snuff porn. But he’s my boy, he loves me. Plus, I’m his cash cow. He might damage me quite a bit, but I don’t think he would ever kill me intentionally because then he would lose his money source.
While I showed off my prolapsed asshole, my boy put a plastic bag over my head. And then he joked about watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy while I sucked his cock and he suffocated me with a plastic bag. Well, I thought he meant it as a joke. Do you know how long those movies are if you watch them all together. So, for like 12 fucking hours I sucked his cock while he punched me in the side of the face and tits and suffocated me with that plastic bag.
I’m still black and blue with a lopsided boob and a few cracked ribs. But my boy loves me black and blue. Those appear to be his favorite colors. He thinks I look prettier with black eyes and bluish-purple skin. He left me with a lot of cocaine to nurse my battered body. And I’m sure he will return. He can never stay away from abusing his own mommy very long.
Violent phone sex fantasies I fulfill on and off the phone. I think there will always be plenty of men who want to fuck me up. And many want to do so just because I remind them of mommy. My stepson enjoys getting violent with me. However, my sons do not. And sometimes mommy wants rough sex. But I always get rough sex cranked up as high as it gets. It seems I always remind somebody of the mature woman who teased them incessantly.
Bobby promised me some coke in exchange for a rape fantasy. He seemed like a normal guy with mommy issues. I did not meet him in a nefarious place. He did not sell drugs for a living or make snuff films. Just a horny boy jonesing for some mommy pussy. And it seemed to go as I expected initially. We went back to his place and enjoyed some role playing in the bedroom. But then he tied up his bitch mama. And that’s where things turned nasty. While tied up, he punched me a few times.
He might’ve broken a rib. I heard a bone snap. Then I felt immense pain. So, I asked him to stop and let me go because I needed medical attention. However, he told me the fun had just begun for him. Something snapped in him. I met Mr. Hyde at the bar, but Mr. Jekyll greeted me in the bedroom. His rape phone sex fantasies for mommy turned violent on a dime. I misjudged his mommy fantasy.
This young man smacked me, punched me, choked me, and even told me he planned on killing me. I feared for my life. Once again, I made the wrong choice. I am a violent man magnet. Not sure what about me it is that makes men turn into Dr. Jekyll with a smile. I just needed to figure out how to get out of this mess.
Although I did some cocaine, I still had enough sense to think about how to get out of the situation. I did not want to end up dead. Even though I know my death might be inevitable with my lifestyle, I’m a fighter. My family makes me fight for my survival. What Dr. Jekyll did not realize is that I’m double jointed.
So, when he turned away for a second, I got my arm out of the restraint. And I grabbed him by the balls. For a woman, the best way to get out of a sticky situation seems to be grabbing a man’s testicles so hard that you make them fall to their knees. He went down for the count, giving me enough time to untie the other restraints.
I kicked him a few more times in the balls. He very fucked me, but he never came. He did crack my rib and left quite a lot of bruises in the short time I spent tied up, but I did not become his snuff porn star because I survived. Women like me learn to be scrappy to get out of trouble and death. When will I ever learn. Men dangle cocaine in front of me like a carrot and I take the bait every time.
Sometimes I find myself consumed with murder phone sex fantasies. Also, I know I put myself in dangerous situations and acquaint myself with men all in the name of a fix for cocaine. Some men treat me far worse than others. And some I wish dead. But just because I have murderous fantasies, does not make me a murderer. Until it did.
I met James about 15 years ago. He’s a drug dealer that I go to when it’s an absolute emergency, but I prefer not to visit him because he’s brutal. Even more brutal than my stepson and more brutal than anybody in my past combined. But I saw him in a place I did not expect to see him. And that made my head rush with thoughts of torture. For everything he’s done to me in my past, he had torture sex coming. But how would I lure him. I set a honey trap. My mind works quickly when I’m high. And I’m always high.
I told him I left my husband, and I wanted to be his slave. I gave him the address of the no tell motel I planned to stay at until I saved enough money to get my own place. And he bought that I wanted to fuck him. Fucking him seemed to be the furthest thing from my mind. However, if I had to fuck him first, I would. This man haunted me in my dreams. But he haunts me no more.
I slipped him a roofie and started fucking him on this no motel bed. I’ve seen Basic Instinct a few times, so I had an ice pack under the mattress. One I could get too easily. And I grabbed that ice pick and I just started stabbing him. Frantic stabbing. His blood sprayed everywhere. He tried to choke me, but I kept stabbing him.
I felt like a fight or flight response took me over. And it fueled me with anger and strength I didn’t even know I had. The guy prolapsed my ass one too many times. Left me battered and used naked in the middle of nowhere. He came close to killing me a few times. And I know I’m weak. I would’ve gone to him again for coke in a moment of desperation. And that next time he would’ve killed me.
I turned that no tell motel into a crime scene. It looked like someone made a snuff porn in that room. Although I didn’t film it, I did leave a mess. But in that kind of place nobody pays any attention to who comes and goes. And I know I likely left DNA behind, but I’m not in the system. But now I must make sure I never am. But in my defense that bastard had it coming. And I’m sure there’s lots of grateful girls in the world who will thank me once they know he’s gone.
Most men have rape phone sex fantasies for women. And I’m not talking just about young girls. Plenty of men have those fantasies for mommy or a sexy mature woman in general. And Lord knows I’ve let plenty of men simulate force fucking me to score some coke or to score some money to get coke. Some men like my stepson really do it. It’s not like I’m saying no though because I need a fix. But men like my stepson scare me because they get so violent with me that I’m left battered and sometimes even with broken bones.
This new guy in my life lives nearby. This guy, I would never want to know where I live, but there’s no way around it because he lives two doors down. Our first official encounter he popped by to introduce himself. But once I let him inside, he pushed me to the ground and fucked me.
He told me I asked for it by walking the dog past his place in little booty shorts. But I never wear booty shorts. He just tried to justify his actions. And I’ve tried to avoid him ever since. But last night he must’ve watched as my husband and son left for the football game. I’m getting over Covid so I couldn’t go to the game.
But apparently, he waited until my family left for the game like they do every Friday night just without me this time. While my boys played ball, our neighbor turned me into his private ass rape porn star.
And he didn’t even do me the solid of using any lube. He went in and raw dogged my ass. I tried to tell him he might get sick, but he didn’t care. Perhaps he thought it was worth the risk to give me a hardcore ass fucking in my own home while my family enjoyed Friday night lights.
But I did not scream. Although I wanted to, I really didn’t want other neighbors to know what he does to me. He knows about my cocaine habits. And essentially, he’s blackmailing me. If I tell anybody about what he does to me, he will tell my husband about my cocaine use. And I fear my husband might leave me.
My boys know I’m fond of little white lines. But they prefer to fuck me when I’m high. So, I know they will keep my dirty secrets. But my nosy neighbor started spying on me and realized he could keep me quiet while having fun with my fuck holes.
I pretended to be asleep when my family came home. With me being sick my husband doesn’t ask too many questions. Good thing I sleep in the guestroom until I’m over COVID because this guy fucked my ass so hard and so raw that I woke up to bloody phone sex sheets this morning.
I would’ve played it off that I got my period or something if my husband noticed. Or maybe a bloody nose. But I don’t think I could’ve explained how I got a bloody ass. Not sure what to do. Maybe I need to hire somebody to kill my new neighbor. Because he’s making my life hell.
