So many people think I belong in snuff movies. Although, I’ve made a few, I honestly try to avoid the snuff world, believe it or not. I survived nine days snowed in with my family. Surprisingly enough, I successfully traded enough cocaine to last for the blizzard.
But yesterday the weather felt great. For once, it did not feel like single-digit weather. And I decided to go out and see if I could score some more coke so I could watch the Super Bowl with my boys and their friends. Plus, I think I experienced some cabin fever. I just needed to get out of the house.
I went to this little dive bar first because I thought I could party with some old blue-collar workers. They love to share their coke. Although I’m talking about a bump here and a bump there. It’s not like I would walk away with a huge bag of coke. This bar appeared safe. But then I saw him. And I almost pissed myself.
I saw a snuff porn director who I’ve worked for in the past. The last time I did, he sent me to the ER, with a broken arm and a fractured ankle. Not to mention all the bruises. But when I went to the ER, they all assumed my husband beat me up. I never confirmed that, but I never denied it either. Once he saw me, I could not escape. I think I pissed him off with polite pleasantries. He pushed me into a single stall bathroom. And I tried not to panic.
He pulled out some coke from his pocket. And I should’ve known better. As soon as I got a taste of his excellent cocaine, he started strangling me. Hard. I thought he might crush my windpipe. He held me against the wall with his hand on my throat. And I heard him unzip his pants. Strangling felt like the least of the evils. He wanted to explore his rape phone sex fantasies with me.
The music sounded so loud outside, combined with all the talking. I didn’t think anybody would hear me scream. But he kept his hand on my throat the entire time so I could not truly scream as he forced his cock in and out of my pussy. At least he let me get high first, I thought to myself. Maybe he didn’t want me to feel the pain.
He fucked my pussy hard. By the time he finished, he released his grip on my throat, and I fell to the ground with a thud. He spit on me and called me a whore. Tossed me a little bag of coke to get me through game at best. Now I have a ring around my neck from his hands. And I still don’t have enough coke to get through another week.
Men do not corner the market on murder phone sex fantasies. Trust me, I’ve met a few men who I wanted to strangle myself. Even a submissive, druggie whore fantasizes about killing men and sexually torturing them too.
But I’m not good in the driver seat. So, I’ve often made myself the victim to get what I need. And all I ever need is money for cocaine. However, I recently found myself in a bind. Desperate for money. But that’s nothing unusual. However, none of the normal guys willing to work with me appeared around to abuse me. The weather apparently plans to keep everybody inside. Even the demented men.
So, if I could not make a snuff sex video for money, I didn’t know what to do. I started looking at some ads on the dark net. Maybe I could find somebody new to work with. And all I found was this one little loser looking for extreme cock and ball torture. He offered a mistress $1000 to trample his dick, use a sounding device and maybe even castrate him too.
So, I figured I could pretend to be a mistress for coke money. I’ve done a few castration calls before. I don’t get them often because I am a submissive whore. However, I’m an excellent role player so I could just pretend to be a mistress. And oh my God I enjoyed this loser. But don’t worry, men, I’m still the same druggie submissive bitch you know and love. I can make a lot more money being the punching bag. A grand worth of cocaine doesn’t go far with me, not in today’s economy. So, I’m not ready to hang up my submissive hat quite yet.
But I did tear this guy’s junk up, and it felt invigorating. In my high stiletto heels, I trampled his junk and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine many times. I used the sounding device with Ben Gay as lubrication to make it burn. And I channeled all my hatred towards a lot of these daddy Dom types into this one loser with a tiny dick. I made him cry. But usually, I’m the one crying.
Although I wanted to slice his balls off, we settled for a different type of castration. I used a castration band around his balls to cut off the circulation. And apparently, in a few days, his balls will fall off. The balls necrotize that way.
He’s been sending me pictures of his balls in various stages of decay, and they appear close to falling off. I enjoyed it. Granted I didn’t make as much money as I’m accustomed to when I’m on the other side of the abuse. But I did enjoy some extreme cock and ball torture sex with a pathetic little loser. However, guys, like I said before, I plan to stay in my lane. Being on the other end of the punching bag makes me far more money.
Sadistic phone sex men love me. They see a red headed MILF, and they think of mommy or some other mature woman who cock teased them mercilessly. And they decide to exact their revenge on me. Last week, I spent the weekend and most of the week snowed in with my family. But I earned enough blow to keep up with my sons and their friends who came over to play video games for once.
I did not go to a bar and get shitfaced so some random man could abuse me. And I did not go to any of my extreme drug dealers to get coke in exchange for abusing my body either. But trouble still found me. It always does.
I decided to walk to the local convenient mart to get some junk food for my sons and their friends. Plus, I wanted out of the house to breathe in some fresh air. However, less than a block away from my home, two random men shoved me in the back of a van.
And I will admit, I felt scared. My life flashed before my eyes. I did not know these men. This was not like a snuff porn, where a director gave me money to buy cocaine in exchange for a couple hours of abusing my body. In those sorts of situations, I know I will live. Even if I wished a snuff director would kill me, I still come out alive. Random strangers kidnapping me off the street who the fuck knows what they would do to me.
But I found out quickly that they just wanted to use my holes. Cabin fever, perhaps? And I think this happened out of chance. Two guys talking about the fact that they needed to nut inside some warm wet pussy and then they saw me walking on the street. They seized an opportunity. Their van gave me the creeps. Dirty mattress in the back with restraints suggested to me they’ve done this before. I think they drive around looking for young girls to fuck. Sort of catch and release.
I pleaded with them to let me go because my family would become worried. And I told them they would call the cops if I did not come home or respond to texts. And I think they believed me once my phone kept blowing up. I told them they kidnapped a woman who lives on this block, and my family would come looking for me. Perhaps I should not have said that.
They decided to fuck the shit out of me hard and fast. They yanked my sweatpants down, ripped my panties off my body, and started probing my ass and pussy with their fingers, hands and dicks. Eventually, they started to fist my holes. One of them lifted me up in the air like a fucking cock puppet, and I banged my head on the roof of the van.
He plopped me down on the dirty mattress, forced my legs up to my chest and started fucking me. Clearly another man with rape phone sex fantasies for mommy. Slapped me, choked me even spit in my face and called me a dirty whore. Confession. I kind of liked it. I knew this was a random attack. And I understood that no one would give me any money or cocaine. But for once, plenty of coke waited for me back at my house.
I thought these men might drive off and I would never see my family again. Instead, they just fucked the shit out of me in the back of that van. But they did leave some marks on my body that my sons would see.
However, I come up with the best stories to cover my tracks. So, I just told my sons I fell on the way to the store. But I left off the random attack and violent fucking in the back of a dirty van. They don’t need to know all the details of my life. They just need to know mommy is a whore and she’ll do anything for coke and their young cocks.
My son and I do not have a traditional mother/son relationship; we enjoy a domination phone sex relationship. But I know he loves me. Why else would he bring me such premium cocaine. Honestly, it’s been a hot minute since he visited his mother. I thought he forgot about me. But he could never forget about his cash cow and old bimbo mommy.
I greeted him wearing a 3-inch hot pink mini skirt. My meat curtains hung down below the hem line as did my prolapsed asshole. I forgot to remove my teeth, so my boy took them out on camera for me. He punched the sides of my face a few times until my teeth flew across the room. The cameras appeared to be rolling because the chimes came in with that first punch. Suddenly, my duck lips got even bigger from a combination of injections and punching.
No, hello or how have you been mommy. He just came in with his guns blazing and started throwing sucker punches at me. Eventually, he turned his attention to my meat curtains. While he pulled them open, he punched my jaw, beating me beautiful while the chimes of donations rolled in. I could tell his wheels were turning. He did not know where to start. Fuck his whore mother’s prolapsed ass, which he sees as his personal cock sleeve, or skull fuck his mother and make her duck lips even bigger.
We started with a hardcore skull fucking. With my teeth removed, he could get deeper into my throat. And that enabled him to choke me too. He punched the back of my head as he suffocated me on his cock. And when I saw the plastic bag, I realized the real trouble had only just begun.
One of these days I might die from suffocation phone sex at the hands of my own son. He put some cocaine in the bag. However, while he skull fucked me, he punched the back of my head and watched me turn blue from lack of oxygen.
Since mommy doesn’t even weigh 90 pounds, he contorted my body so that he could fist my prolapse while he skull fucked me with his cock. He managed to punch me a few times in the ribs, the back, the head and even the jaw. I think he knocked a few IQ points off me. Suddenly, he removed his dick from my mouth so that he could show off his new cock puppet to the live streaming audience.
But he left the plastic bag secure around my head so I still could not breathe. My mind felt scrambled. Right before I completely lost consciousness, he tore a hole in the bag so I could breathe again. He likes to bring me within inches of death, but I never quite die. But in this moment, I sort of wished I had died.
As he walked around the room with me sitting on his cock, he just kept fucking my ass harder. Shredding my already shredded asshole. He would let me snort some lines occasionally, but while I did, he punched me in the eyes, giving me a mommy makeover. My mouth serves as nothing more than a cock holster.
When he pulled his cock out of my prolapsed ass, he immediately shoved it in my mouth so I could spit shine it. And of course he punched the sides of my face again. I could feel my face swelling up. But my boy loves me. He never punches my nose because he wants me to enjoy my cocaine.
Eventually, he pulled his cock out of my ass and shoved it back down my throat, where he could punch the sides of my face some more. As he said, “I love you,” he continued to punch me. According to my son, 768 at home viewers watched him beat me beautiful and fuck my prolapse. I’m nothing more than a cash cow and bimbo skinny fuck meat to my son.
He rammed his cock back down my throat, holding my ears to make sure I swallowed him balls deep. And then he pissed down my throat right into my stomach. By this time, my eyes felt so swollen, I couldn’t even see the coke bowl. But I could smell it.
My son continued to punish me and use me in front of his audience. He dipped his fingers into the bowl of cocaine, then shoved them down my pee hole which he considers his fourth fuck hole. Once he crammed me into a beach ball position, he could fuck my urethra, his favorite fuck hole. Chimes galore occurred. Men love seeing him abuse my pee hole, my tightest hole.
While, fucking my urethra he pulled my meat curtains wide like butterfly wings. And he told me tonight he wanted to make mommy tight again. I’ve not been tight since I gave birth to his brothers. This felt like a rough sex evening. But I know it could’ve been worse. In the past, for his streaming audience’s pleasure and my humiliation, he’s done far worse. At least he didn’t throw me across the room. But he did make me his hand puppet with his fist up my already sore asshole.
The rest of the night he skull fucked me and fisted me for his viewers pleasure. Eventually, he nutted big ropes of cum in my mouth for it. He made me leave it on my face for a close-up. The final chimes came in, and I felt lucky to still be breathing. After all the live streams I’ve completed for my son and all the abuse I’ve taken as his ass rape porn star, I am amazed I am still breathing. One day I know he will go too far. And I will end up dead.
Even women have rape phone sex fantasies. True story. But most of us never really want men force fucking us. It’s more like a fantasy for us. Recently, I started hanging out with this guy I met at a dive bar. He likes to party. And so far, he seems generous with his cocaine. Apparently, he never minds sharing when presented with the right incentive. And so far, that’s been a blow job or a hand job.
The other night when we got together, he changed the terms. He wanted to fuck me. Fuck all my holes and fuck me roughly. I needed a fix. Lots of snow days in my near future. So, I didn’t have much choice. Not like I’m some angel. Far from it. But I knew in the back of my head men who escalate like that I should avoid. But I never avoid them. And that’s because the voice in my head that tells me I need to do anything for cocaine speaks louder than the voice in the back of my head that warns me of danger.
My new friend set me up. Got me hooked on his cocaine and his generosity then pulled the rug out from underneath of me. He wanted to make me a violent ass rape porn star. He filmed it and everything. Much like my stepson, he appears to enjoy a love-hate relationship with mommies.
I guess somewhere along the line his own mother fucked him up. And now I paid the price for her screwup. Personally, I think mothers should fuck their sons to prevent them from growing up sexually frustrated and angry at every mature woman who reminds them of mommy.
But I didn’t have any choice here. And I don’t just mean my addiction to cocaine. He threatened to expose me. If I did not let him explore his rape fantasies with my ass, he would tell my husband all the nasty things I’ve done for coke, including all the men I let fuck me for coke. Fuck I told this guy too much because I trusted him. And when I’m fucking high, if a man asks the right questions, I’m going to give him the truth. So, at some point, I told him how I get creative to get cocaine or money to buy cocaine.
The way I viewed it, he did not give me a choice. So, I did a line and put my ass up in the air so he could violate me. Did I mention his cock felt like a forearm. Seriously, when he started ravaging my asshole, I questioned if I felt his cock or his arm inside of me. He shredded my asshole. The entire time he forced fucked my ass he choked me, pulled my hair and slapped me too. Plus, I heard a lot of “I hate you mommy.”
He gave me some Coke. But if you ask me, not enough to compensate for what he did to my asshole. Once again, a man, angry at mommy, left my asshole prolapsed, battered, and bloody. Most days I hate being a taboo phone sex woman and wish I could be the typical soccer mom. But I don’t think that will ever happen.
Gangbang rape porn pays my bills. Who am I kidding. I don’t have any bills. I just need to earn money for cocaine. And these sorts of rough sex movies pay very well. Even though sometimes they leave my body destroyed, I find it worth it. Obviously, some men treat me better than others. Last night I thought things might be going well. Two guys offered to pay me $500 to fuck them. And they seemed like normal guys. They didn’t look like snuff directors. I think they thought I was a hooker.
When we got back to their place, I realized they set me up. The house seemed full of men. Probably at least 50 men. Suddenly that $500 didn’t seem like very much if they expected me to service all their friends too. So, I said something. And they started punching me. Slapping me around and choking me too. The two men who picked me up in the bar and paid me the $500 made it clear that if I wanted to live, I would do whatever the fuck their friends wanted.
Most of those men wanted to turn me into their private ass rape porn star. Men loved to force their cocks up my asshole. Not sure why. Perhaps regular women don’t give up the ass. I’m no regular woman. I’m a whore and I do anything for coke money. So, I sucked it up and let 50 men run a train on me. But they did a lot more than just fuck me. Most of these guys made me swallow their piss. Some of them slapped me and choked me. While others made me worship their assholes. I do not like being human toilet paper.
Although I hoped I would be paid more money, I did not expect it. If I got the $500 that they promised me, I would just suck it up and be a good whore. And I think they never met a better whore than me. Men love exploring their rape phone sex fantasies with this red headed suburban mommy.
Since I’m a druggie whore, I will continue to let men explore those fantasies. I’ll do anything for money. When I got home, I felt like a train ran over me. They did give me $500 but not a penny more. They should’ve paid me more, but I felt outnumbered. I did not want to lose my life. Not that day at least. So, I guess as long as I keep chasing cocaine, I will continue to put myself in dangerous gangbang situations.
Occasionally, this submissive mommy receives domination phone sex calls. Perhaps because I’m a mature woman men think I might be good at domination. And I can do it when it’s called for, but I much prefer to be the submissive whore. This weekend I hustled my ass down at the truck stop to earn some cocaine money. But the darker stuff just pays better. It might kill me one day, but it pays much better.
So last night, I took a gig for more money and less time than I made hustling down at the truck stop. But the director told me I need to be the one to dominate these two young girls. And I asked him if he felt confident that I could do the job. When he told me if I failed, I might not leave alive, I knew I needed to bring my A game. In this snuff sex video, I acted like the mother of two naughty whores. So, I just channeled my mommy side. And I thought about all the men who dominated me over the years and the things they did to me.
The two young girls who served as my co-stars appeared to be junkies. You could call me a junky, but I never shoot up. I don’t mess with fentanyl or heroin. Perhaps you could consider me more old school. I enjoy my cocaine and my marijuana. These girls looked strung out. But I guess that turned out for the better cause I needed to inflict a lot of pain to earn my money and get out of Dodge alive.
A male coaster helped me. The premise of the sick little movie involved mommy pimping out her naughty little girls for money. And I helped this man turn each of my girls into his private cum dumpsters. Not only did he violate all three of their holes, but he helped me whip them into submission. Plus, he helped me anally torture them. The director wanted rough anal for these bitches. And I know a thing or two about being an ass rape porn star. We fisted these girls. Sometimes, we double fisted them together.
We destroyed their assholes using our fists and a variety of foreign objects. If the director wanted a rough anal film, I planned on delivering that to him. Although I did feel badly for anally torturing these two young girls who could’ve been my daughters, I know the snuff world, it seems like survival of the fittest. When I need cocaine money, I do whatever I need to do so I can party later. I earned cocaine money and the girls earned fentanyl money. So, a win-win situation.
But don’t worry men, I’m not going into domination mode anytime soon. I’m a much better submissive mommy than I am a dominant bitch. But I will do anything for money. And that includes fisting two teen girls into oblivion.
On New Year’s Eve well I should’ve been spending time with my family, but I made a gangbang rape porn down at a truck stop instead. A friend of mine told me that she makes good money as a lot lizard. She said she must fuck and suck a lot of cocks, but no one treats her too roughly. So, when she needs instant cash, she goes down to her local truck stop. So, I thought why not do the same. And although I found plenty of truckers willing to pay for sex with a MILF, they did want to get rough too
But I told myself I could handle it. No way a bunch of truckers could treat me any worse than drug dealers and snuff makers. However, that might’ve been a wrong assumption on my part. I got myself into some trouble. Once I fucked about four truckers and made enough money to buy Coke, I should’ve stopped.
But I got greedy. I wanted more money to buy more coke. And the fifth trucker I fucked changed the game. He did not just want an ass rape porn star. But he wanted to watch every trucker at that truck stop run a train on me. He turned me into a private gangbang whore. And this one seemed mean. I know if I said no, I might not be alive today to tell you about this in a blog.
Something in his eyes told me this man buried some bodies before. So, I didn’t want to mess with him. I did everything he told me to do. And being a good whore prolapsed my ass, bruised my body and left me broken. He set up some camera equipment for a live stream, and then he forced my head down on his massive cock.
And while I sucked his cock, about 50 other truckers came into the back of his cab and started fucking me one after another. But of course, they didn’t just fuck me. They choked me, pulled my hair, slapped me, punched me, and even spit on me. This trucker filmed the whole thing and brought out the worst in his fellow truckers. He encouraged them to take out all their rage and anger out on my tiny suburban body.
I feared I might make a snuff porn on New Year’s Eve and never see my family again. But after the last trucker nutted inside of me, he tossed me out of the back of his truck and threw me some money. Not enough money for what I endured, but enough money to buy some more cocaine. And cocaine will help me nurse my battered body and my bruised ego. I should’ve stopped while I was ahead. But no. I needed more money to get more cocaine. When will I ever learn?
Well, this bondage phone sex whore thought she had enough cocaine to get through the holidays. But my fucking sister-in-law found my stash and flushed it down the toilet. She remains clueless about what I did for that cocaine. I hate that bitch as much as she hates me. All my husband’s sisters hate me because they see me as a gold digger. I make my own money. And I use my own body for my cocaine habit.
She threatened to tell my husband, and I told her to go ahead because he knows I use cocaine. But he also knows I don’t spend his money for it either. I took the wind out of her sails. But I still needed more cocaine, especially since my husband’s sisters decided to visit for the holiday.
I tried to get a hold of Marcus my regular drug dealer because he just fucks me with his big black cock. Nothing extreme. Maybe occasionally he makes me his ass rape porn star, but I can handle anal sex.
So, I texted Charles. He just likes to tie women up and fuck them. And sometimes piss on them. But he pays well. It’s his fetish. He’s not an official snuff maker or anything. Just an old man with a kink for bondage and a wife who won’t let him tie up even her pinky finger. So, he uses his money to pay druggie whores like me to explore his fetish.
But I don’t know if he experienced some holiday anger or not, but he went harder on me this time. Harder than normal. I’ve maybe worked for him six times, I think. And I’ve always left relatively unscathed, except for the ligature marks on my wrists and ankles. After this time, however, those ligature marks appear around my neck too, and my tits. Also rope burns between my pussy lips. So, now it burns every time I pee.
He tied me up better than butcher ties up a side of beef. But when he tied up, he whipped me and pissed on me too. He broke skin in a few areas and let me tell you how much piss burns an open wound. He started beating on me too. I just tried not to bite my tongue off, endure the pain and get the fuck out of there. But like I said, he appeared to be in some sort of mood. And not a good one.
But he didn’t kill me luckily. I almost wanted to die so I didn’t need to deal with my fucking sisters in law. To cover up my neck marks, I wore a turtleneck. However, as a taboo phone sex whore, this sort of thing happens often. I’m alive at least. But I will need to hide my cocaine better in the future.
Last night felt like a snuff porn nightmare. My last night before the holidays to score some cocaine. I always need extra during the holidays because my sons and all their friends stay home from school for a couple weeks. And I need to be in tiptop shape. I went to a few drug dealers who couldn’t help me out because they did not have any product. So desperate times call for desperate measures. And I want to see Luke.
Luke makes my stepson look like a member of the Mickey Mouse club. Luke hates mothers. Like with a passion. Apparently, his mother screwed him up somewhere along the way. And now he makes snuff flicks of sons simulating murdering their mothers. I just told myself I’ve been through worse. And I’ll likely be through worse in the future at this rate. So, I sucked it up and kept my eye on the prize.
The man who would be my son and executioner, stood almost 7 feet tall. That alone made me shit a brick. That guy could kill me with his pinky and index finger. Seriously though, I did feel scared. But at least Luke let me do a line of coke before he started the snuff sex scene. The executioner showed me no mercy. Why would he, I guess. He threw me across the room. My head hit a cement wall so hard it took a chunk out of my forehead. Blood trickled down my face, and we were less than five minutes into a 30-minute feature film.
Perhaps throwing me around like a beach ball seemed like foreplay to this dude. Because the next thing I knew he scooped me up with a thumb in my ass and hurled me in the air like it was an Olympic sport and he wanted the gold medal. And as I laid on the ground, battered, beaten, and bloody, he decided strangulation phone sex might be fun. His hands choked the life out of me. I lost consciousness a few times too.
This man beat me to a pulp while Luke rolled the camera. He told me it was my best work yet. Of course it was. He almost fucking killed me about halfway through this little snuff flick. I almost wanted to die. He gave me the money for Coke. But not enough to get as much Coke as I need to heal my pain and get through the end of the year. If my sons only knew the things that I endure just so I can be a good mommy whore for them.
