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.
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.
