“Fucking Merry Bloody Christmas,” is what he said when he walked in the room. There were several of us there, bound and gagged, awaiting our fate. Twelve girls to be exact. He had kidnapped 12 random girls for his Twelve Days of Bloody Christmas. We were his Christmas presents. All I knew was that we were in the woods somewhere, secluded from civilization. No one to hear our screams. No one to care. For some reason I was being saved. I was his favorite. Lucky me, not. He and his friends beat me daily. Choked me, slapped me, cut me, sodomized me. Made me watch as they mutilated and or killed the other girls. One a day.
Their favorite way of celebrating Bloody Christmas was with knives. I watched one girl be forced to fuck her cunt with a knife. She had to bend over in front of them and put the sharp knife in her cunt. They threatened her with death if she didn’t. Her pussy was gushing blood. Her girl parts completely shredded. So mutilated I could not fathom her ever fucking again. That was the purpose. To mutilate a whore’s instrument.
Another girl had to sit on a dirty old toilet and impale her cunt with a knife sharpener. It was long, sharp and had a coarse body. I could only imagine the pain she felt as her vaginal wall was shredded and her female organs impaled. Blood gushed out of her pussy. I was scared. I knew eventually they would grow tired of fucking and beating me and want to make me a part of their Bloody Christmas.
I was tied to a bed where they brutalized my ass as I watched them force girls to mutilate their bodies. I could see out a darkened window just a tad. The creek behind the cabin was a crimson red. I guess that’s where the not so lucky girls end up. I knew my fate would be bloody, maybe even the bloodiest of them all. For whatever reason, they deemed me the Queen of the Whores. Fucked me like a whore for days. Beat me like a whore for hours at a time. Forced me to watch the carnage they inflicted on the other girls. Left me tied to a bed soaked in my own blood as they cut and sliced my flesh.
There are three days left of Bloody Christmas. I suspect, I will be the last victim. I prayed for death. The dead girls were lucky.
Do you enjoy torture sex? My dominant son has been torturing me for years and he gets off knowing I share our sick twisted exploits on phone calls. He said it makes me a victim twice over. A few weeks ago, he found out I had seduced a young boy on the block. I am a hot MILF after all. Apparently my son installed a nanny cam in my bedroom so he knew all the dirty perverted things I let that much younger man do to me.
My payback for being a dirty whore was to have my holes tortured. My son doesn’t like having a slutty mommy who fucks anyone. I think he just doesn’t like me fucking anyone but him and his friends. As he was binding my limbs, he took a cattle prod to my pussy, electrocuting my clit. He looked me right in the eye as he was singeing the flesh from my pussy and said, “You are a dirty P-mommy, you deserve pain, not pleasure.” He added, “If you can’t use it properly, you shouldn’t have it.” Then, he held the cattle prod so hard on my worthless clit that it ripped from my pussy. He laughed as I screamed in pain.
Blood was running down my thighs as my son flipped me over to expose my worthless ass. He shoved a speculum in my asshole, cranked it wide and spit in it. He knew I let that young boy cum in my tight ass and he was so livid he decided to mutilate my ass too. He lit a Churchill cigar, which is a long son of a bitch, and fucked my ass with it, flicking ashes deep inside me. The embers seared my anus. I didn’t think I could hurt anymore when he took the cattle prod and fucked my ass with it. My rectum was on fire. The pain was agonizing, but I knew I deserved it. I knew I was a worthless dirty perverted mommy that needed punished for corrupting young boys. My son then fucked my bloody tortured holes. His cum burned my torn and battered fuck holes. He got off so hard hurting me. That’s all that matters.
Women like me need strong masters to keep us in our place. I am a torture doll. I need punished daily for I am weak. I fornicate. I have dirty thoughts. I am insolent. Would you be my Master too?
Do you like snuff porn? One of my Master’s does. In fact, he forced me to help him kidnap a young college girl. I actually knew her, which made it worse. Of course she willingly got in the van with me. I had her believing I had a job opportunity for her starring in an independent film. Said I had a friend who needed a young girl to act like she was being stalked in the woods. It was going to be a thriller movie and she had to be convincing as a scared girl. I took her to where she would meet her death. She was so innocent, so unsuspecting. Master put me in charge of holding the camera. He was going for the realism and hand held camera affect of the Blair Witch Project.
Once I introduced them, he let her run free in the woods. He acted like he was hunting her, but he was not acting. When he struck the first blow to her head, she screamed out my name. But I knew my place. I had to ignore her pleas for help, and let master torture her, force himself on her, and eventually kill her. She put up a fight. He beat her with a bat, strangled her with his hands, violated her holes with his cock and the bloody bat he bashed her head with. He eventually strung her up with a rope abd tied her to a tree branch until she died from strangulation. I filmed it all. The screams, the pleading, the gasping for air, the blood, the forced sex, the twitching in the air… every sick perverse moment I capture on film for Master to sell for profit. Snuff porn is a big money maker these days, and according to master the more real it looks the more money it brings. Nothing more real than dead.
Master saw my guilt as we buried her in a shallow grave. He was not happy that I showed remorse. This made him doubt my loyalty. He always tells me, no one ever misses a worthless cunt. Then he reminds me I am a worthless cunt. As we were walking back to the car, he whacked me hard over the head with the shovel we buried her with. I felt blood trickle down my face before I passed out. I woke up tied up in the back of the van. I heard him say I was gonna star in his next snuff porn.
My boss hacked my computer and discovered incriminating photos of me and my son. The kinds of photos that could get me arrested. I thought he was going to blackmail me; force me to fuck him to keep my job and stay out of jail. I did have to fuck him. I had to let him fuck my ass so hard he bruised it, and left it prolapsed. But that was just the beginning of what he had in store for me. He informed me I was going to be his accomplice. If I could do all sorts of depraved things for my son for free, I could be his bitch to keep my job. Turns out my boss has a sick perverted side. He has a penchant for those sweet little lasses. He just needs the right accomplice to lure them into his sick perverted world.
He had a sweet angel already selected for me to snatch and grab. We did a few drive bys so I could see his selection and learn her daily route home. Cute, angelic blonde with a little teddy bear. Reeked of innocence, just what he wanted. I felt sick about what I was about to do, but I had no choice. As a natural redhead, I look awful in orange; and, I am not about to be Big Bertha’s bitch. My ass would be sold for a Kit Kat in jail. Sorry sweet thing, but it’s me or you. I stalked her for days. When I was ready to kidnap the little slut, I put on a mom outfit, brought my dog and a Benadryl filled juice box. No one ever suspects a mommy type is a sick twisted p. She fell for my routine. After I offered her the juice box, the rest was easy. When she got sleepy, I snatched her up and shoved her in the boss’s van that was following us. Poor thing, her parents should have warned her about engaging with strangers.
We took her to his place, where he had a special room all prepared for his little victim. His plan was to pimp out her tight virginal holes for money. Lots of men willing to pay top dollar to violate a little one. How much would you pay to fuck a young virgin? After he made a decent amount selling her flesh, his plan was to auction her off to the highest bidder for some snuff porn. Sort of like a rugrat Hostel film he said. He had a ton of expensive camera equipment plus an array of torture devices. Poor thing was not going to have an easy rest of her life. I brought this lamb to be slaughtered to save my own hide, yet I was not all that conflicted about it. I thought I would feel bad about kidnapping her, but I was aroused at how easy it was to snatch and grab her right off her block. My job now was to make her pretty and presentable for all her new daddy dates. And keeping her quiet. Turns out I am a great accomplice for dark desires. I am a good sick
Can I be your dirty accomplice phone sex whore too? As a mommy, I can lure the sweet ones away so easily. And as a subby bitch, I do whatever I am told, so whatever perverse thing you need done, I will do. Think of all the fun we can have violating, even snuffing out, those sweet little lambs. I can do your dirty work, so you can enjoy that tight, sweet flesh.
I am a bored housewife. Have a husband who is never home, brats that are only around when they want something like money, drugs or pussy. So, I created a profile on one of those adult hook up sites. Sometimes I just need a good fuck. I went to a hotel to meet this college stud to find out I had been duped. He was there all right, but so were three of his friends. When I tried to act like I had the wrong room, one of them grabbed my hair and dragged me into the room. He tied me up and they all started fucking me. Choking me as they shoved their cocks in my ass and pussy. Slapping me, punching me, strangling me, even cutting me. I was a bloody, black and blue mess.
I looked over to my left, tears in my eyes, but I could see the camera. The sick bastards were filming themselves assaulting me. Then their true objective came to light. I had been lured to my death. They were going to fuck me, then kill me, then fuck me some more as they made a snuff film. They said I should feel honored because they were going to make me famous like William Allen Grone did with his victims. He was a supposed serial killer who filmed his murders and had sex with dead bodies. He has been idolized as the first maker of snuff films, but some question his existence. It didn’t matter, if these fucks thought he was real, that was bad news for me. They added that I was a stupid cunt who deserved to die. What stupid bitch meets a stranger in a hotel room to fuck in this day and age? Those words would stay with me until I took my last breath.
I thought maybe this was all a hoax, engineered by my sadistic son. I mean, you see this shit in horror films, but who really lures unsuspecting women off the Internet to slaughter them, while filming it? But when the knife plunged in to my belly, I realized I was not the victim of a hoax, but the victim of sadistic bastards out for a buck and their 15 minutes of fame.
I felt the warm blood oozing out of my stomach. I felt myself getting weak, tired, cold. I could hear them laughing, telling me to smile for the camera. I could feel them cumming on me as I lay their dying. Then everything went dark. Maybe I will have the respect of men in the afterlife, that I never did in life.
I am a stupid cunt whore. Despite my desire to live, I know I am a worthless fuck pig who deserves to be killed. What would like to do to me before you snuff me out? Would you fuck my dead corpse?
Sometimes a bitch needs broken. Not every bitch breaks easily either. I try to be a good bitch. I do know my place. But I am not always great with the pain, which causes more pain to be inflicted upon me. I need to learn to cry and scream on the inside only. I was suspended upside down being whipped nonstop while being sodomized. I tried really hard to hold in the pain, but I was weak. Master cut me down and put me in a rubber suit. It was so tight. It hurt my flesh. I could barely breath, but I could not talk or scream. Master wanted me quiet, as in dead quiet.
I had little slits for eyes so I could see what was going on still. Master dumped my body in a coffin. He shut the lid and dared me to scream and cry all I wanted to. “No one will hear you now. No one will care,” he said. I knew he was right. No one cares about worthless whores. I wanted to still scream though, but even if I could it was futile. I needed to conserve oxygen. Master was trying to suffocate me. Force me to be quiet, maybe forever.
Not sure what happened next, but pretty sure I passed out from lack of oxygen. I woke up still in coffin. Could hear Master and his pals laughing, speculating if I was still alive or not. They were amused by my predicament. At that moment, I heard the coffin door open. I was pulled out of the coffin, stripped of my constraining rubber suit and hung back up for more whipping and anal torture. This time the whippings were more severe; so severe my flesh was being sliced and torn. But you know what, I didn’t make a peep. I am a good quiet whore. I learned my lesson. I would rather suffer quietly as the flesh is ripped from my body than to suffocate in a dark coffin any day.
How would you break me?
They saw me at the club all dolled up, dancing with my friends. They saw me snorting coke off the table and drinking and thought I was just a worthless whore. They waited until I stumbled out to my car and grabbed me. They gagged my mouth, tied my hands behind my back and threw me in the trunk. I could hear them laughing at how easy that was. I was getting car sick in the trunk. I needed to puke. Just when they opened the trunk, I puked all over the place. One of the guys grabbed my red hair and pulled me out. He dragged me across the gravel, up some stairs, into a house and tossed me in the basement.
I was banged up good and bleeding. What seemed like eternity was only a few minutes. They came down, stripped me of my clothes and started fucking my ass and pussy with their fists. They called me a stupid worthless cunt. Said I deserved everything they were going to do to me because I was going to drive drunk and I was a coke head. They pulled my hair up above my head and tied me to a beam by my hair. I could feel my hair pulling away from my scalp. Then they started punching my belly and slapping my face. When blood started running down my scalp, the cut my hair so I fell on the floor.
There, on the floor, bloody and in pain, they forced themselves on me. Assaulted me with their cocks in all my holes. After a few hours, they stopped. One of them spit in my face and reminded me again what a worthless whore I was. Then they dragged me back into their car, drove a little ways and dumped me in a field. I woke up the next day, cold, partially clothed, covered in blood and cum.
I am a worthless whore. Use me in any way that pleases you. That is what I am here for.
I was in my bed, waiting for my son. He never showed. I decided to go to bed. I was startled awake by a noise in the garage. The dogs were barking too. I thought my son was drunk and had stumbled into the garage. I went to go check it out and a guy grabbed me and threw me down on the concrete floor. He straddled me from behind and began to choke me and smack my face on the floor. I started to scream and fight, but he shoved a ball gag in my mouth, ripped my clothes off and forced his cock in my ass. He came almost instantly. That was a blessing and a curse.
I thought he was done with me. That this was a typical breaking and entering with forced sex. But, he had more in store for me. He strung me up. He found my son’s bondage equipment and used it against me. He had me tied up and suspended in my own garage. So many ropes around me I had very little movement. He then put clamps with weights on my nipples, pulling them down. They started to bleed. He grabbed my throat and choked me some more. I could feel my windpipe collapsing. I was struggling for breath.
He suddenly let go of my throat right before I was about to pass out and shoved his cock down my throat till I gagged. My eyes got watery, I started choking and I started to cry. He shoved his fingers up my nose restricting my air. He yelled at me, “Stop crying bitch and you can live.” I tried my best to stop crying. I tried to think of this as just another extreme bondage game like I play with my son. Only this game had no safe words.
He shot his load down my throat. As he was cumming, he pulled on the weights attached to my breasts and made them bleed more. In fact he ripped a nipple. I was afraid to cry. He messed with the ropes to get me in a different position. He wanted my ass up in the air. He got behind me, sort of like a wheel barrel position and started ramming his dick in my cunt and ass. No condom either. I just prayed he did not get me pregnant or give me an STD. As he fucked my holes, he stretched them at the same time with his fingers. He enjoyed watching his dick torture my cunt especially. My pussy was raw looking. Red and swollen. I wanted to survive, so I did not cry despite the pain.
As he fucked me, he kept choking me. I know this is suppose to intensify a woman’s orgasm. But, no way I was cumming being forced by some stranger who broke in to my house. I like rough sex, but consensual rough sex, one between a master and his servant. Suddenly, I heard the garage door open, but one of my ropes was attached to the door so I started to levitate up to the ceiling as the door opened until I was smack dead against the garage ceiling. This tightened the ropes so much they started to cut my skin. The ball gag was in my mouth so all I could do was moan. I saw my son come in and I was relieved. I knew I would be cut down and this nightmare would be over.
But then I saw my son pull out his wallet, hand my attacker a wad of cash, and shake his hand. My attacker left. My son looked up and waved at me, then turned off the lights and left. I stayed up there, in that awful position all night. Scared, in pain, cold. Next morning, he came back and let me down. I had purple marks all over my body. I could barely talk, and my right wrist was broken from the constriction of the ropes. I asked my son why he would pay a man to assault and torture me. His response, “Because I can.”
Every now and then I encounter a very sadistic man. A man who truly believes women are worthless whores on earth only for their pleasure. And that no matter what they do to a woman, it is justified because we are all just whiny, bitchy, cunts who do not deserve to live. I met such a man recently. On the outside, seemed like any other hipster. Owned a little coffee shop I went to daily, liked music, college educated, easy to talk to. That is how he trapped me. I felt safe with him. Felt like he really wanted to just be my friend. I get lonely. My husband is long gone, and my son travels a lot with his job. So when David invited me to his place for dinner, I accepted, totally clueless about what was in store for me.
He slipped some sort of roofie in my drink. I woke up bound and gagged in his basement on his work out bench. He was standing over me with an evil smile. I saw on the wall a plethora of torture devices. Now I am rather accustomed to extreme bondage devices, but what I saw looked more like the tools of a serial killer. Knifes, saws, an ice pick, dental and surgical tools, a flame thrower, drills, hammers… All deadly and painful instruments. He grabbed a pair of pliers and held my nose tightly, forcing my mouth open and for no reason other than his sick pleasure, pulled one of my teeth out from the root. He was a true sadist. The pain was excruciating. I could taste the blood. He said, “Now you aren’t so pretty. All pretty women are whores.” I was crying and shaking. He got tired of hearing me and shoved a ball gag in my mouth which made me choke on my own blood.
The next tool of pain he brought out was a scalpel. He began making small cuts all over my torso like some Dr. Demento. He sliced my breasts up, made a trail of cuts down my stomach. He then dripped hot wax into my wounds. The wax slowed the bleeding, but the pain was awful. He laughed at my tears. What he pulled out next horrified me. He had a torch flame like welders use. He told me there was nothing more intoxicating than the smell of burnt flesh and a whore’s tears. He fired it up and aimed it straight for my stomach. He didn’t leave it on long enough to set my whole body on fire, but he did take a layer or two of skin off my belly. It hurt so much I lost consciousness.
I woke up in my car, back in my clothes. I thought maybe it was just some horrifying dream, but then I checked myself in the rear view mirror. I was missing a tooth. The bloody roots still hanging from where the tooth had been. The pain really hit me. I lifted up my shirt, revealing a charred stomach. He had cauterized my wounds so I was not bleeding, but it was horrible looking, very raw, and even worse smelling. I wanted to wretch. I searched for my keys, trying to figure out if I could even drive. I found a note in my purse that said “Tell anyone what happened Blair, and that pretty little face you love so much gets burned.”
There are sadists all around us. Men who take extreme pleasure in hurting and degrading women. You would think by now, I would be better at recognizing them. Are you a sadist in sheep’s clothing? DO you harbor dark desires like David?
The last thing I remember was hiking in the woods. It was a lovely day. The sun was shining, the leaves were all sorts of pretty colors and I was enjoying quality time with myself. I woke up dazed, confused and starving. But I was not alone. There was a young couple with me, bound and gagged. I did not know where I was or how I got there. It appeared to be some sort of cabin in the woods. I tried to scope out the situation, figure out what kind of trouble exactly I was in. I never could have imagined the trouble I was in. A man with a mask came out of the darkness. He grabbed me by the hair and forced me to look at the couple tied up on the floor. He said with a sinister tone, “Would you rather be eaten alive or eat some one alive?” What kind of sadistic game was he playing? I looked at him dumbfounded, and simply said “I don’t understand.” He explained to me this was a simple task. A simple game of would you rather. But, it was a game I had to play if I had any hope of surviving. He turned the timer on, put a gun to my head and gave me 60 seconds to make my decision.
In a moment of panic I screamed out, “Eat some one alive.” Surely this was a hoax, some sort of prank. He dragged me over to the couple. Made me decide if I wanted female or male flesh. The boy looked like Justin Beiber. I hate Just Beiber, so I screamed out male flesh. I then watched him prepare my live meal. Human sushi he called it. He seasoned the flesh, even tenderized it for me and buttered the skin. I thought he was going to cook this boy alive, but no. I had to eat him, while still breathing, still looking at me, pleading me to stop, begging me for mercy. This was difficult , but my survival was on the line. I think when we are all pushed, we will do drastic things to stay alive. Even eat an innocent person.
My evil dinner host brought me an array of deadly kitchen cutlery and a big plastic bib to catch the blood, the flesh. This was really happening. I really had to do this. The young guy was shaking, tears running out his eyes. I tried to figure out where to begin. I took a knife and cut off his balls. People eat sheep balls, I could eat human testicles. I heard him scream in pain and watched him horrified as I swallowed his sinewy flesh. It did not taste like chicken. It tasted awful, but I chewed it up good and swallowed, reminding myself that this was just a game. I was forced to keep eating, so I tried my best to cut off sections of flesh that enable him to still survive. I cut off and ate a nose (oddly crunchy), ears, his penis, a few fingers, a few toes….I was stuffed and nauseated, but being forced to eat more flesh. He was bloody and in pain, likely dying. Perhaps I was doing him a disservice by trying to keep him alive. It seemed as if I was going to have to eat him until he died, or until I died.
I looked at him; his eyes told me it was okay. He had given up. I took a big knife, stabbed it in his chest, pulled out his beating heart and ate it until it was no longer beating. I can’t believe I ate another person while they were alive. But I guess I would rather live than die. I had no choice. At least that is what I am telling myself to sleep at night….
