I showed up to audition for an ass rape porn that would pay a lot of money. I needed the gig. Plus, I knew I would be perfect for it. In auditions for a legitimate snuff or rough sex videos nobody fucks you, but you do have to toy with your ass and show the director that you can handle things in the butt.
The cocaine diet keeps me thin. And eons of rough sex even violent sex keeps my ass loose. But I am getting older. And I’m competing with barely legal girls. That’s why I often need to seek out less legitimate movie directors. I did not get the part I auditioned for. However, I did get a recommendation to see this other snuff porn director who I never worked with before.
So, when I showed up at the abandoned warehouse for my addition, I felt a little nervous. You never know what you might get with a new person behind the camera. And I never know when I enter these situations if it might be my last audition. But this time I needed to put more than a butt plug in my ass. When I pulled my butt plug out, the director looked at me like a hungry vulture.
Now I felt nervous. He saw my prolapse and suddenly couldn’t control himself. Apparently, a woman’s prolapsed asshole acts like his kryptonite. He grabbed something off his desk. Then he charged me and pinned me against the wall. I knew this might get ugly. He turned my prolapse into his cock sleeve, much like my stepson does. He turned into a horny teenage boy at the side of my prolapse.
While fucking my prolapse he told me about a series of prolapsed anal porn he made. And how he’s been looking for a new model to make another series. He offered me a lot of money. And I thought about it. I will ever get back the asshole of my youth. Too much damage. Too much action. Why not star in a bunch of prolapse hardcore ass fucking movies. At least this man fucked me more gently than my stepson. He did not fuck my prolapse with icy hot. Instead, he used regular lubrication.
But he told me if I would make a test to video with him right then and there and I would earn $1000. That would buy me enough coke for the week or maybe even two weeks. So, I said sure. And he bent me over his desk with my hands tied behind my back and started shoving all sorts of different objects into my prolapsed asshole. At least he let me get high, so I could dull the pain.
Up until that day, I did not realize men had rape phone sex fantasies for a prolapsed asshole. But apparently, they do. And apparently it can be a profitable market. So, I signed a contract. And I got a little taste for what it feels like to be a prolapse ass porn star. We start filming next week. At least he gave me enough money to buy coke, so I don’t need to endanger myself again until we start filming. But I just know my asshole will take a major beating, However, that’s nothing new.
Bondage Phone sex may not be my favorite thing in the world, but it beats torture any day. Occasionally, I answer bondage ads I see on the dark net. And I understand I always take a risk when I respond to these ads because anybody can put up an ad. Does not mean I am responding to a legitimate porn producer. I don’t care about legitimate or not if they can pay me enough to make it worth my while.
Andy dangled a huge bag of cocaine in front of me if I agreed to be a bondage whore for a photo shoot. His model who he hired never showed up and he had a deadline. He makes dark violent content for private collectors. Photo shoots and movies for one man to beat off to for the rest of his life. And this client who hired him wanted to see a MILF tied up and brutalized.
The ad just said bondage modeling. Never mentioned making a gangbang rape porn while tied up. But I guess he hoped I would be desperate enough for the cocaine to agree to anything. And he took a gamble on the right submissive whore. I will do anything to get that huge bag of cocaine. And the only thing on my mind when I agreed to his bondage shoot was the coke.
And this monkey on my back will kill me one day. Not the cocaine itself because I can out snort Pablo Escobar. However, the things I do to get my blow will most definitely kill me one day. The director invited random men off the street to fuck me. And I couldn’t fight them. Metal chains held my legs up and apart. Plus, he handcuffed my hands behind my back.
I couldn’t lay completely down. While tied up in the most uncomfortable position, my neck dangled. The only relief I enjoyed came when the men would fuck my mouth after they fucked my cunt or my ass. Some of them held my head for me so I could focus on deep throating their dicks.
My entire body feels like a truck ran over me. I can barely move today. I lost count after 30 men fucked me for hours. But I feel like a strung out druggie whore needing a fix. But I got my fix. Man after man fucked my pussy, mouth and my ass too. I guess I should be lucky. I didn’t dislocate anything tied up in that awkward position.
But I earned that cocaine. I’ve never felt this sore. I feel more like I made a torture sex video more than a gang bang one. But this is the life of a druggy MILF. If this monkey remains on my back, I will keep putting myself into dangerous situations.
I love accomplice phone sex calls. For one I love helping men with their dark fantasies and their devious endeavors. But I also like profiting from somebody else’s pain, not mine. Decades of being the slave makes me a good accomplice. But I never get asked to be the accomplice. So, when I did, I put my all into it because it felt like a break from the usual submissive whore stuff men force me to do.
I support my drug habits being the victim. The strung-out druggie whore mother, so desperate for cocaine she lets packs of feral men ravage her. I showed up the other day at this place to make a snuff film. But I assumed I’d be the snuff star. Because I always am the victim. However, this director, who I worked with in the past, wanted me to be the accomplice instead. He makes a ton of snuff movies. This time I would be the mother of the snuff star. A young girl.
This excited me. For once, I would earn cocaine money and not return home, black and blue or with some sort of injury I needed to explain away. Although I did feel bad for the young girl because I knew the other male costars would brutalize her fuck holes, I felt relieved that I would not be victimized. So, the premise of this little underground flick centered on a desperate mother selling her young girl online to the highest bidder for drug money.
I don’t have any daughters luckily. Because honestly, sometimes when I’m super strung out, I think about shit like that. I’ve heard stories all my life. I travel in a world of seedy men who no doubt would purchase a young girl to do nefarious things to if they could get away with it. But in this movie, the man who purchased my daughter wanted me to watch all the vile and violent things he did to my daughter
Although I cannot tell you the age here I can on a call because the daughter I sold online seemed super young. And this man strapped her down to a table and fucked every one of her holes violently. Even put a fist in her pussy and ass. At her age, being an ass rape porn star feels worse than at my age. I watched him destroy these tiny little holes while she cried for me. But I just stood on the sidelines doing lines of cocaine watching him force fuck her tiny little body into oblivion.
For my role, the director paid me handsomely. Enough money to buy cocaine for the week. And I went home with no bruises or visible marks to explain a way. However, the vision of that man violating such a tiny little girl stock with me for a while.
But with enough cocaine, I won’t feel bad for the girl for long. That girl can take this moment and let it break her or make her stronger. That’s her choice. I chose wisely with this snuff movie because I didn’t get hurt at all. However, I bet this experience ruins her for the rest of her life. But that’s not on me.
Men love to explore their violent phone sex fantasies with a redheaded mommy. Most men find me a double poison. A ginger whore and a mommy whore. Whatever reason men demonstrate a lot of anger towards redheads and mommies. So sometimes I feel because I am both, I get the brunt of the abuse.
Sometimes you could say I asked for it. I seek it out because I want to earn money for cocaine. Other times, it just happens to me. And last night it just happened to me, and I didn’t even get any cocaine out of it. I met a friend at a dive bar. This guy and I never fuck. We just party together sometimes. And bitch about our spouses. His wife seems just as uptight as my husband does about our love for the white powder.
I drank a few beers with him and then he left because his wife started texting him incessantly about his whereabouts. I decided to stay and finish my beer. And that right there appeared to be my mistake. Sitting alone in a bar filled with men looking at me like hungry vultures. I knew I would struggle to get out the door without becoming a gangbang rape porn star once again.
I minded my own business. Paid my tab and started to leave. I kept my eyes down so that nobody could say I made eye contact with them and I asked for it. But before I got out the door, somebody grabbed me by my curly red hair and pulled me back. And I almost reached the door handle. The bartender locked the door, turned off the outside lights and yelled to the bar patrons, “showtime.” What the fuck I thought. Showtime, what the hell did that mean? For a moment I thought they might turn into hungry vampires like in From Dusk to Dawn.
And yes, I became scared. Very scared. All these men descended on me like a pack of rabid wolves. They tore my clothes off and smacked my face. Some of them choked on me while a few others pissed on me. Once they stripped me naked one guy lifted me up and slammed me down on the bar where the rest of them proceeded to gangbang me.
So, I looked over to the bartender with pleading eyes of help, and he just laughed, pulled out his camera phone, and started filming my assault. Nothing worse than drunk, sweaty men all on top of you fucking you and forcing their cocks and their fingers into various holes. Why does this always happen to me. Even when I don’t look for trouble, I find it. I should’ve left with my friend.
About 30 men fucked me. And violently fucked me too. They wanted to explore their rape phone sex fantasies with a ginger mommy and they did. Cum oozed out of my ass and my pussy. Plus, chunks seemed lodged in my hair and all over my body too. I smelled like cum and piss. Bruises started showing up on my body from where they grabbed me, pulled me and punched me.
But eventually, the bartender unlocked the door, turned the lights back on and told me to get out. And he warned me if I said a word of this to anyone that little video would be sent to my husband. I didn’t doubt him. He knows my name. And with my credit card information on file, he could certainly find out where I live and obtain my phone number easily too.
But I am on video getting gangbanged in a bar. Yep. Keeping my mouth shut. So once again, I cannot go to the cops. I must take the abuse and figure out yet another lie for why mommy came home covered in bruises and walking like she just went horseback riding.
As an ass rape porn star, I no longer enjoy tight holes. My asshole and my pussy always appear gaped. My sons love it. They enjoy looking at my holes gaping. However, they think that’s just because mommy’s a whore who likes to fuck. And although that does appear true, my fuck holes look like the Grand Canyon because of everything I do for coke money. Men fist me and they put all sorts of objects in my ass for shits and giggles. Anything to humiliate me. Plus, anything to make me really feel it too.
And last night mommy came home with a gaped asshole because of a violent fisting gangbang. Friday night, I needed coke for the weekend, so I saw this guy who loves to brutalize my ass. But he pays for the pleasure of fisting me. When I showed up at his place, I saw a few friends there. And I knew that spelled trouble for me. One fist in the ass feels bad enough. But 25 fists in my ass? Well, that’s a violent anal gangbang rape porn.
So, I let these men ravage my asshole. I thought they would fuck me. Horny guys partying and no pussy in sight. But apparently, they partied too hard and ended up with limp dicks. And perhaps in hindsight, I did not make the smart choice when I pointed out their limp dicks. Because I think I angered them. And that explains why they fisted my ass for hours. They left their rings on and everything.
One guy filmed it. And he joked about live streaming my anal prolapse. One guy reached into my asshole and pulled my asshole out with his hand. And just laughed as I cried in pain. But I’ve been in this place before. Many people love abusing my asshole. They like to take my asshole and make it an outside toy for them to play with. Still to this day, I don’t think anybody brutalizes my ass more than my stepson, though.
But I learned to keep my mouth shut. The anal torture sex felt unbearable at the time, but in hindsight, I know I’ve been through worse. And I will be through worse in the future. My sons loved seeing my gaped asshole when I came home. However, I didn’t tell them what I experienced to earn that gaped asshole. I just let think I went out whoring around.
Mutilation phone sex left me butchered. I don’t tend to think things through completely. I see ads on the dark net all the time looking for models for various snuff type photo shoots or films. But I only focus on the amount of money they plan to pay me. I never read the fine print about the possibility of bodily harm or even death.
So, when I saw the pay for a day’s work, I skipped reading the rest. I wrongly assumed I signed up for another snuff movie of some sort. But what I honestly signed up for turned out to be more of a butchering photo shoot. They wanted to carve me up like a Thanksgiving ham. However, they assumed I understood the risks. But I did not truly understand until a man came out of another room with a bunch of knives and an executioner’s mask on. I almost pissed myself.
What did I get myself into once again, ran through my head. He held a variety of knives, and they all looked very sharp. Oh boy, here we go again, I thought to myself. I might not survive this one or I might be permanently scarred from knife play phone sex. Luckily, I can photoshop a lot of my scars away. The executioner guy kept telling me not to tremble because he could slice an artery. But that did not do anything to relax my mind. It just sent me into a spiral of fear.
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate extremely hard on anything, but what he would do to me. So, I could feel the knives slicing my flesh. And I just tried to stay focused on my happy place. Luckily, I did my last bit of blow before he strapped me to this cold slab. Minutes felt like hours. I could feel my crimson blood flowing down my mutilated flesh. But I stayed focused in my mind. Telling myself I can get through anything.
I’ve been through a lot in my life. Perhaps most people look at me as a pain slut. I see it a bit differently. I’m a drug addicted whore, who puts herself in dangerous situations for a fix. I don’t sign up for this shit because I like pain. Pain just helps me earn money to buy cocaine. So, I view myself more as a druggie whore than a pain slut. However, my threshold for pain gets better every time.
This felt like pure torture sex. And I suppose the director aimed for that. No doubt the world contains plenty of men who love to see a mother butchered like that. By the time the session concluded, I looked like I walked off a horror movie set. But the blood on my body was not make up. Tiny cuts covered my flesh. Luckily, they never touched my face. And with winter, I can get away with long sleeves and pants until my wounds heal. When will I ever learn?
Perhaps you could say I enjoyed a snuff phone sex weekend. Many men wanted to explore their violent fantasies about mommy for Valentine’s Day. Nobody gave me flowers or candy. But they did give me bruises and sore fuck holes.
My stepson wanted to live stream a Valentine’s Day edition with his redheaded stepmom. Since he blackmails me and bribes me with cocaine, I never have much choice in the matter. He gives me the best blow. However, he makes me work harder for it than any of those other drug dealers or snuff film makers. While the camera rolled, he said some silly little Valentine’s Day poem about turning his mommy black and blue. When I saw him put a bunch of oranges in a pillow sack, I knew what came next.
A good beat down came next. He said batter up and the tips came in. Then he started beating me black and blue. You would think that a pillowcase full of oranges would not hurt, but it feels almost as painful as somebody punching the crap out of you. We heard a crack and then I could barely breathe. For a moment, I thought uh oh I’m making a snuff porn, and I will die accidentally on Valentine’s Day. And although he broke a rib at least it didn’t puncture my lung. But he didn’t stop beating me even after he cracked my rib.
Likely, most of my ribs he cracked in the past. It’s painful. But they heal with time and rest. Clearly, he needed money. And since I am his cash cow, I came to the rescue. Truth be told I needed a bunch of blow to keep up with my two biological sons and their 10 friends that spent the weekend with us. To be a gang bang mommy whore requires a lot of cocaine. The kind of cocaine only my stepson can provide.
At least my boy let me do lines of cocaine in between every beat down, because honestly, I didn’t feel any pain until the cocaine wore off. But he did leave my body battered. Black and blue. I came up with a lie that I fell down the stairs. Blamed it on the dog. My husband believed that I tripped over the dog because he thinks he married a typical suburban housewife. But he really married a druggie whore who stars in snuff movies so she can get cocaine. And he has no clue that I’m his first son’s cash cow whore.
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.
