I enjoy being the bad babysitter phone sex babe. Much easier for a woman to get a babysitting gig than a man. Even most men don’t trust another man to watch their cute little one. But they’ll trust a bimbo babe. So go figure. It’s so easy even in the modern technology age to create a new identity. When it comes to babysitting sites, I’ve learned how to manipulate them. Of course, I do have some help from a guy I met on the dark web. He taught me everything I know about creating a digital identity and faking references.
But most parents see a woman, and they don’t realize I’m a package deal. Over the weekend, I watched a little boy. A cute little boy too. A client hired me to get him access to a cute little boy butt. And since I am not a mother, being a freelance babysitter gives me access to random boys and girls. I feel like a horny teenager sneaking in her boyfriend after my parents went to bed. I drugged my little charges with a nighttime cocktail and then my partner arrived.
Perhaps I should say my dirty accomplice phone sex partner. Because he pays me way better than I get paid for babysitting. The babysitting money is nothing compared to what this guy paid me to fuck a boy ass. I didn’t use to understand why a grown man would want to fuck a little boy. I guess in my mind I thought a little boy could not have a big enough cock to satisfy anyone. But then I realized it’s about that tight fucking hole. Nothing will feel tighter on a man’s dick than a little one’s tight ass.
And boys possess cute little bubble butts. I don’t wonder anymore. And I want to help men fuck a boy butt. So, I take the money and I deliver a boy butt to my client. And my client seemed happy with my choice. A cute little blonde waif with a tiny bubble butt. I put a tarp under the boy as he slept like a rock from my milk cocktail. This way you don’t leave evidence on the sheets. If I’m the accomplice, I think of everything.
My client asked me to film this young boy ass rape porn. It didn’t last long. In fact, I think he felt embarrassed that he only got a few thrusts in before he nutted in that boy’s ass. I went through a lot of work for only five minutes of action. A little disappointing. But I got paid, nonetheless. My price is not based on time but on risk. The riskier an assignment is the more I charge for it. And fucking a young boy in his race car bed seems like a high risk.
For five minutes of pleasure, I required several hours of cleanup. I needed to make it look like nobody came into the home and fucked their son‘s boy butt while he slept off a druggie stupor. But I don’t think the parents suspected a thing. They paid me $50 for the evening, which is a lot more than I made babysitting 20 years ago. However, it could not compare to the 10 grand my client paid me to fuck their son ‘s asshole. By the time he wakes up and starts complaining that it hurts to poop, I will be back to my real identity, and nobody will know who to look for.
Snuff phone sex turns interesting turn sometimes. Years ago, I brought my master at the time this cute coed. She was a little older than his favorite age group. But he saw her at Starbucks and he wanted her. So, I facilitated their meeting. But I liked this girl. And I tried to warn her, but she wanted the money he offered for a night with him.
Honestly, I never saw her again. I felt too afraid to ask my former master what happened to her. Sort of one of those situations where you don’t really want to know the truth. But then I ran into her this week at a bar. I almost didn’t recognize her. Past few years have not been good to her.
However, she did not recognize me until I mentioned my name. I apologized profusely to her because I figured she looked like a wreck because of my former master. However, she got away from him after one night. She took the money and never saw him again. I felt so much relief because I worried over the years what became of her.
I don’t believe in chance. Everything happens for a reason. I’m much different than I was a few years ago. I’m leaning more into my switch side being an accomplice phone sex partner. She told me about her abusive boyfriend who she met during her wild night with my former master. And I didn’t think anybody could be more of an asshole than my former master. This guy she dated kept her prisoner in this basement until she escaped. And now she does not know where to live or what to do to avoid him.
So, I brought her home to my place and we plotted his murder. Maybe boyfriend is the wrong word. Captor seems more fitting. I didn’t even charge her because I owed her. Even though she only spent one night with my master and he paid her handsomely for the encounter, if I hadn’t made that introduction, she wouldn’t have met this guy. He is one of my former master’s minions. And I guess he learned a few things from him along the way like how to keep a woman prisoner and beat her into submission.
I remember this guy too. He always wanted to fuck me, but master never shared me. So gussied myself up for him and laid a honey trap. If anybody deserved castration phone sex it was big Mike. A chance meeting, he thought. I took him back to my place where she laid in wait. But first, I drugged his drink so it would kick in by the time we got home.
So, we castrated him together. I could tell it felt therapeutic to her. And it felt therapeutic to me because I pretended he was one of the many other men who also did not deserve their balls either. As much as I wanted him to live without balls as a constant reminder that his actions have consequences, I knew he would kill us if he lived.
So, we gutted him like a pig. Pulled out all his internal organs and drove his carcass out to the country. Fed his organs to the wilderness in my backyard. But disposed of his body in this marsh in the middle of nowhere. The fish and fungus living in that marsh will destroy his body before it could ever float to the surface. And we killed him in such a brutal manner to make it look like a rival gang took him out. Nobody will ever suspect two women did this to a 6’5 300 lb. man. But we did. Now she is safe.
Accomplice phone sex partners like me help men get those tight young pussies they want. Women seem less threatening to young girls. We can get closer to them than men. For some reason young girls lack stranger danger for women like they do men. And that bodes well for me.
I want to help men fuck young pussy. Just like I helped my former master get all the young cunt he could handle. Originally, I didn’t like being put in that position. And I felt affinity for these girls. However, I also felt a strong desire to break free from the chains of servitude. And to do that, I needed to bring my master 100 young pussies to fuck. It took a few years to get that many, but I finally did. And now I’m a free agent. Not owned by anyone. And I flipped my own script. I went from submissive slut to accomplice.
And I became a teen rape porn filmmaker with the kidnapped girls I took for men like you. Mike and I went hunting last week for the perfect girl. We walked around the mall for hours until he spotted the one that made his dick super hard. A cute young girl. Honestly, I saw the attraction. That sweet innocence made her attractive to us. And for a moment, I felt bad because I knew that innocence would disappear within a few minutes of meeting my client.
So, I lured her way easily and brought her to Mike’s place. And he waited for her naked. As soon as she saw a naked older man, she began to panic. And I looked her in the eyes, and I told her to never trust a woman either. Behind every perverted man who enjoys young girls is a woman who helped make him that way. I pushed her down on his dick, forcing her to suck his cock. Why waste time. Clearly Mike wanted to fuck her. And he paid me to help him. Not only did I lure her away, but I helped him fuck her and filmed it too.
By the amount of blood that spilled from her young cunt, we both knew he popped her cherry. She cried and begged for her mommy. And I almost felt bad for her. Then I remembered how much Mike paid me and I felt less guilty. He ravaged her pussy and her ass. And I could tell it hurt. But I got it all on film. It will make a nice ass rape porn. Not sure if I will keep it for my spank bank or if I will upload it on the dark net. Either way we made a great movie.
However, the girl did not survive. We did not intend to make a snuff flick. But accidents happen. Men go a little crazy sometimes when they finally get that young pussy they crave. But as the accomplice, I took care of the cleanup and the disposal of the body. We put her body in the trunk of my car. But I disposed of her body three counties over.
And I took dark roads to avoid any street cameras. I buried her deep in the woods. I doubt anybody will find her. Unless of course they see our little homemade movie on the dark net. Then they might think she fell prey to a sex trafficking ring. As your accomplice, I take care of finding you the right little playmate. And I dispose of her too. Dead girls can’t send you to prison.
Medical fetish phone sex calls seem rare. But I love them, nonetheless. I get a couple a week but being the accomplice comprises the bulk of my calls. And in a way medical fetish exploration seems like an accomplice job. I help you enjoy a massive orgasm. But I help you enjoy it with a little bit of pain.
And in the case of Stephen, a lot of pain. He told me he considers himself a pain slut. In the past, he hired dominatrixes to explore his submissive pain side. Not all men seem created equally. Some deserve to get all the pussy they want whenever they want. Other men seem to exist for cock and ball torture sex.
As Stephen aged, his dick started to work less. But that happens. Age is our worst enemy. Almost everything becomes more difficult as we age, including orgasms. Stephen wanted to play doctor with me. So, I got out a sounding device, dipped it in Ben Gay and rammed it down his pee hole as I used his balls for stress release. Although I could see tears in his eyes from the pain, he kept an erection. And that’s telling. It tells me a man enjoys the pain I’m inflicting on his junk.
Honestly, medical fetish scenarios turn me on. Mainly because I think about revenge on the men who abused me in my youth like my own father. Cock and ball torture seems like perfect revenge for sexual predators. And with the sounding device deep down in his pee hole, I kicked his balls repeatedly in my stiletto heels. The fucker started to piss all over the floor and showed no remorse or embarrassment for it either. So, I did something rather unexpected.
I keep a poker with the letter C on it. It looks like the sort of thing farmers use to brand their sheep and cattle. I use it to brand a man’s balls. Essentially castrating the man. Maybe not literally but figuratively. If it man wants to have sex with a woman, he’s got to explain why there is a C branded on his balls. I left that sounding device in his urethra while I branded his balls with my initial.
His cock stayed hard the entire time. Stephen did not lie to me when he told me he’s a pain slut. But I may have kicked it up a notch when I branded his balls. He should feel lucky I didn’t turn this CBT session into a snuff porn. But I was not mad at Stephen. He did nothing but beg for some cock and ball and medical torture. However, I started thinking about my past and branding all those men who abused me in my youth. I got so carried away that I almost castrated Stephen. You leave that poker on the flesh too long and you eat right through the skin.
He tipped me a large sum for leaving my initial on his balls. Essentially, I made him my slave for life. And ruined his chances of experiencing a normal orgasm or relationship ever again. I extract cum from your balls, one way or another.
Sadistic phone sex revenge feels so sweet. Sometimes you wait a lifetime for that revenge, but it feels so satisfying. James has been locked in my dungeon cage for a few days now. He waited in total darkness, naked, wondering what he did to deserve this sort of treatment. According to him, he apologized for breaking my heart. But a simple apology does not suffice for breaking my heart, James.
I opened the dungeon door, the light shined behind me, illuminating my body. And I thought about how my life would’ve been different if James admitted his love for me earlier. My pet seemed a little cramped in his cage. Good. He deserves to be a little uncomfortable. But I opened his cage. And I put a chain around his collar so he wouldn’t try to run away.
We walked upstairs and I let him use the restroom. I made a big spread for breakfast and told him that I’m not quite the monster he thinks. I will keep him fed and clean. But I also told him to make no mistake that I would kill him if he tried to escape. James killed the romantic woman in me many years ago.
He appeared weak, so I made sure that he got plenty of food. And I could tell he seemed hesitant to eat the food because he thought I poisoned him again. I told him no need to be suspicious. But he would need energy to survive a busy day worshiping me. I planned on cramming in 30 years of pussy worshiping in one day. James laughed like he thought I might be kidding. Not a chance. The woman he fell in love with no longer existed.
Again, he begged for forgiveness. Just words. He looked at me with puppy dog eyes, but I knew he could see the fire in my eyes. He tried to claim he always loved me, but all he ever did was turn my love for him into something tawdry. Back then he just wanted to fuck me. He crawled to my feet and started running his fingers up my calves, but I smacked his hand away. He touches me when I tell him he can touch me. I yanked his chain and forced him to stand up.
And I escorted him to my living room. I know he feared I would turn him into a snuff porn star. But I had other plans for him. I ordered him to lie on the floor. Then I lifted my nightgown and sat on his face. “Now you can touch my legs slave,” I told him.
He owes me 40 years of sexual pleasure. As I lowered my pussy on his face, I felt his hands caressing my legs, moving up to spread my thighs and plunge his tongue eagerly into my love garden. He started to roam his tongue up and down my garden. And then I started to grind on his face. Tilted my pelvis, back-and-forth brushing my pussy all over his face.
I would pull myself up and look at glistening face every few minutes. My dream of revenge finally came to fruition. I could feel his hands trembling as they caressed my legs and my hips. Good boy, I told him as he hungrily licked my clit. I began to bounce up and down his cock. And I could feel the blood rushing my clit.
I reached my hands down to his testicles and gave the family jewels a good hard squeeze. He started to yell, but I told him he had better keep licking. And I pumped his balls in rhythmic fashion until he started to lick my pussy faster. A little cock and ball torture helps train a slave like James.
As he started to lick faster, I started to squeeze faster and harder. He wrapped his lips around my little cherry, swirling his tongue back-and-forth until my witness dripped on his chin. I could feel myself starting to cream on his face. And he just started licking faster until my entire body shook. All I could do was put my entire weight down on his face and grind harder.
My thighs squeezed his head as I rocked back-and-forth until I orgasm all over his face. My juices flowed like a burst damn all over his tongue and face. And of course, I ordered him to lick it all up. I told him if he still wanted to make me cum 40 years later, he better lick like his life depended on it. Because it did. The moment James can no longer make me orgasm is the moment he takes his last breath.
As I came on his face, I noticed his erect cock, so I smacked it. And I smacked it hard too, but he stayed erect as my juices flooded his face. Something in him changed when he made me cum. And I think he suddenly realized it’s not that bad being my slave. I turned him into a human dildo. And I made sure he knew I owned him for life. I squeezed his balls again and decided he needed to make me orgasm again. Of course, squeezing a man’s balls means you control the narrative. And James finally realized I was in control.
My husband never eats pussy, but James seems like a natural. He wanted my juices cascading all over his face again. He finally got his woman, but he got her on my terms, not his. Begged to be my romantic partner, but he killed the romance in me 40 years ago. Even though Air Supply played in the background, I continued to deprive him of oxygen with my cunt. And I could feel my sticky juices begin to flow again.
And I unleashed a second floodgate on his face. He trapped my kitty by holding me down on his face as he swirled around my clit making me explode again like a nuclear bomb. So, I started to rock back-and-forth with more force and squeeze the side of his head until I came. He started calling me mistress and professing his love for me as I climaxed on his face, turning him into a glazed doughnut of love.
He could barely breathe as my juices covered his face. I collapsed on top of his head. That cock still looked erect. He could’ve been my romantic partner so many years ago. But when you snooze you lose. He told me he wanted me forever. That he wanted to be my willing slave. But all I could think about was revenge and cock and ball torture sex. I dug my long fingernails into his balls and watched him jerk his body from the pain. I found myself getting drunk on his pain, so I dug them in deeper.
So, I hovered my pussy over his cock as I continued to squeeze his balls. And then I teased my own pussy lips with his erect soldier. When he grabbed my tits, I slapped his dick some more. I suddenly realized James likes a little bit of pain. Maybe he became a masochist from beating himself up for letting me go. I became a sadist once I realized James would never be mine.
His hands began to roam my body. And I just started squeezing the head of his dick as I shoved it up my cunt. He watched his cock disappeared into my womanhood. My juices began to cascade down his shaft. I reached my hand behind my back so I could squeeze his balls some more. The harder I squeezed the more pleasure James felt.
And I started to move faster up his shaft while letting his hands play with my tits. His love stick would glisten with my love juice. But I did not make love to James. I fucked James. On my terms. I used James as my human dildo.
When he felt my legs trembling, he knew that I would cum again quickly. And I moaned from the pleasure. His cock belongs to me as well as his body. I started convulsing on his cock as I took sexual pleasure from him. And I think I came 4 times and he had not cum once yet. Seemed fair.
The more I squeezed his testicles the wetter my cunt felt. James knew we were not making love. We were force fucking. I had him tied up on my living room floor, using him for my pleasure. I could feel his cock growing super hard inside of me. And I could even see it slip in and out of my wet pussy. It started to turn colors, blue and purple as his excitement grew. With my hands still on his balls, I knew they wanted to burst.
He found me on LinkedIn and that gave him hope. Hope that I exploited and took advantage of. He fell into my web. I knew he’d come looking for me one day. But I hoped it could have been sooner. James will grow to need my sexy body and my cold heart. He’s nothing more now than my human sex toy.
I came again with such intensity that I rolled over onto the floor. I gushed like a geyser all over his soldier. He begged to cum. But my pussy would not be his cum dumpster. I let him stroke his cock, but then I changed my mind. He did not deserve a fulfilling orgasm. No man breaks my heart and enjoys pleasurable orgasms.
So, I milked his prostate. I slid my finger into his ass while squeezing his nuts. And I found that magic spot because his cock leaked like a broken faucet. I mixed pleasure and pain as I forced the cum out of him. And I pumped his testicles like stress balls. I could feel his body shake as I forced the man juice out of his dick. He came with such intensity that I thought his cum might land on the ceiling instead of his stomach.
I rubbed some into his chest as he panted hard. Then I licked it off my fingers. A few more squeezes to the head of his soldier, and then I returned him to his cage. But I let him clean that jizz off his chest, use the restroom and grab a snack beforehand.
When he emerged from the bathroom, he kissed my feet. I made him a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup. And I told him to stay fed and hydrated to keep up with me. This is his life now. In a cage, in my basement, only being brought up when I feel horny. James is here to worship me for eternity now. And he will devote the rest of his life to taking care of my needs.
Back in his cage, he went. I knew I would be back later to use my human dildo again. I put a big padlock on the cage and tucked the key into my bra. I laughed sadistically, knowing he would never return home. I think I broke him. And I think he’s ready for a life of servitude to the woman he crushed 40 some years ago. It’s never too late to extract revenge.
Most of the time, men hire me for accomplice phone sex. But I’ve been known to help a few women with boyfriend problems. However, this week, I enjoyed the pleasure of helping a teen girl. A girl in a bad situation much like I was many years ago with my own father. A few months ago, I met this young teen girl hooking on the streets. I was looking for a young teen prostitute for a client of mine and I found her.
This client would treat her well, so I didn’t feel guilty about procuring her services. But I will admit I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her either. I could already tell in her eyes she’s experienced more trauma than most people do in their lifetime. My client took very good care of her. And gave her enough money so that she could stay in a hotel for a month.
I stopped by her hotel last week with some food and cash to extend her stay. And we talked. She left an abusive dad just like I did. But unlike me, she has somebody in her corner. She has me. And her dad deserved castration phone sex more than any man.
So, I got enough details from her so that I could find her father on my own. Although from the way she described him, I knew I was way too old for him. So, I catfished him. He thought a young teen girl wanted to fuck him. Fat greasy fuck. I can’t imagine any woman wanting to fuck him. But I pushed my way into his house and drugged him.
He woke up, tied to his kitchen table, naked. And he saw me holding a butcher knife when he woke up. I told him I met his daughter recently and she told me all the nasty fucked up things he did to her. Then I told him I wanted to settle an old score. Men like my father and her father don’t change because their daughters grow up or run away. They just find more girls to prey on, unless you neuter them.
And since I’ve long harbored fantasies about castrating my father, the least I could do was castrate her father. She can take solace in the fact that he won’t prey on any more young women again. Hell, this bastard will never fuck again. And he’ll never even wake up with a pee hard on. I took his balls. And cock and ball torture sex never felt more cathartic. Of course, I imagined I was castrating my own father. This fucking slime bag predator should feel lucky I didn’t slit his throat because he did not deserve to live.
I left him tied up on his table bleeding. He’ll be able to get out of the ties eventually. But not quickly enough to find me. And I doubt he’ll go to the police. Because if he does, his daughter will tell the police everything he did to her. Sometimes castration seems like a fitting punishment for a sexual predator. It felt good to be on the right side of the accomplice spectrum this time. But I’ll still help men fuck young girls. However, if any young girl comes to me with a man problem, I will help her for free. Money is not everything.
As a sexy switch, I never mind exploring domination phone sex fantasies. The beauty of a snuff site like this includes being able to fantasize about anything even getting revenge on an old sweetheart. I met James in college. And I liked him so much. Honestly, I gave him every indication that I wanted to date him. However, he never picked up on it. And when he picked up on it finally, it felt too late. He graduated from college. And left me behind.
He tried reconnecting with me after he left college, but I shut him out. I had to. I did not want him breaking my heart once again. And I thought we had something special, but he took far too long to realize it. A girl can’t wait forever, can she. So, when he reached out to me out of the blue, I hatched a devious plan to get my revenge. And my revenge involved some cock and ball torture sex.
We agreed to meet for dinner. And I brought along something to drug his food. He always thought I was a sweet innocent girl next-door type of woman. So, he would never suspect that his rejection turned me into an evil bitch. Although we did reminisce about the good old days, I could see that he wanted me and that he regretted the way things ended. But I moved on. Well, sort of moved on. I have been letting my anger and resentment fester for decades.
By the time we got back to my place, the drugs I put into his food kicked in. He pretty much passed out on me. Which is what I wanted. I needed time to tie him up and strip him naked. When he woke up, he found himself tied naked to a bed in a dark room with no windows and only candlelight. I built a dungeon in my house to keep him prisoner. He seemed perplexed and baffled at why I did this. And I explained to him I should’ve had a much different life if we had only met sooner. Or perhaps if he picked up on my love language back in the day.
He didn’t understand and wanted to know where the sweet girl he once knew went. And I told him he killed her. Now it felt right to get revenge. While tied up, I sat on his face and suffocated him with my muff. Squeezed my thighs so tightly against his head that I felt like I could crush it. It forced him to lick me like pussy eating was an Olympic sport. Well, he literally licked me for his life. I squeezed his balls and twisted them with my long red fingernails. And I definitely left a mark.
He killed the old me. Turned me into a bad ass bitch who gets revenge on the men who wronged her. But I debated my own self about what to do with him. I could’ve killed him and he knows that. However, I decided to keep him prisoner in my basement for all eternity. He’s not without certain skills. The kind of skills that women need occasionally need. Whenever I need to orgasm, I can pull him out of his cage and force him to worship me like a good puppy dog.
Honestly, when he reached out to me after all these years, I thought about killing him. I truly harbored murder phone sex fantasies for my old college sweetheart. And now he will be my eternal prisoner. He will serve as my sex slave. And as stress relief. Anytime I feel overwhelmed, I can go downstairs and squeeze his balls. In fact, I think he might like that. But I know he will like licking me whenever I need licked, which is often. The innocent love lorn coed disappeared. We can enjoy a new relationship now. But this time, I’m in charge.
I enjoy domination phone sex. But I think any woman would. At the club, I met Peter. And I think he might be the most misogynistic man I’ve ever met. He’s one of those manosphere guys. But I found him to be full of contradictions. I mean, if you believe women belong at home and not in the workforce then why are you contributing to women working. He spent hundreds of dollars on strippers. No big spender, but he still contributed to our financial independence.
And we strippers have no plans to stay at home and cook and clean for a man. Most of us work because of a man. For me, my abusive piece of shit daddy forced me to drop out of school and become a teen runaway. The adult industry allowed me to make a decent living without a college education.
And women work here to support themselves after bad breakups or divorces. Single moms who want to feed their little ones. Women who trusted their man with their finances. Hell, we’ve got some girls working here supporting deadbeat men in their lives. Although I always convince the girls to eventually leave those deadbeat men so they can benefit from their hard work.
Peter wanted me in the VIP room. And I did worry about him wanting to explore his rape phone sex fantasies. He’s clearly the type who thinks women exist for his pleasure. Although he did not try to assault me, he did try to degrade me. He called me a whore and went off on some tangent about what sluts need. He paid money to spew his misogynistic world view. So, I used my stiletto heels to kick him repeatedly in the family jewels. What a fucking loser.
And a loser who tried to call security for help. Security is not going to help him. They exist to protect the girls, not the patrons. I recorded, without his knowledge, his fucking tirade about women. I planned on getting him banned from the club and every other club in town, but not before I administered some severe cock and ball torture. Men like Peter think with their cocks not with their pea size brains. And I genuinely feel sorry for any woman who encounters a man like Peter because we all know their dicks must be smaller than those tiny little brains.
So, the bouncer arrived because he heard Peter screaming like a little bitch. And without missing a beat, he pinned Peter to the ground so I could kick him in the balls repeatedly. I undid his belt buckle, pulled down his jeans and yanked off his boxers. Then, I laughed my ass off when I saw his tiny dick. I told him the truth. Women don’t fuck you because of your tiny dick and your tiny mind. And it felt good to trample his cock and balls in my stilettos.
I mutilated his junk. And he’s lucky I didn’t castrate him instead of just giving him cock and ball torture sex. But I might’ve busted a nut. He crawled out of the club. The fucking manosphere loser got what he deserved. In fact, I went gently on him. If I ever run into this loser again, he will lose his balls. And I wish I had castrated him. Fucking assholes like him don’t deserve to procreate or spread their misogynistic hate. I think I showed Peter who is the real boss though. And I’ll show any man like him too.
Accomplice phone sex role plays I enjoy. And I think it appears obvious why. It’s better to be the accomplice than the victim any day. Accomplices live. The accomplice usually walks away from any situation unscathed and with money. And I’ve suffered decades of abuse, so it feels good to be the accomplice instead of a victim.
Last night I helped a woman get revenge on a serial predator. Her own uncle. This girl appeared to be college age. Half my age at least. Cute too. But I could tell in those eyes she’s been through some shit. Those dead eyes told a tragic story. And for decades, my eyes appeared the same too. So, I sat down and asked her to tell me all the details on her predatory uncle. It’s research for the job.
He started exploring his rape phone sex fantasies for his niece when she was super young. When she got older, he threatened to kill her baby sister if she said a word. Yeah, I told her I would do the job with pleasure. I wanted to help her kill her uncle because it would feel cathartic to me. Her uncle sounded just like my father. And I’ve yet to exact my revenge on him, but I’ve been practicing.
We set her uncle up. He thought he would be meeting his niece. Get this. He tried to blackmail her into bringing her baby sister. So, this loser thought he’d be meeting both of his nieces. We did this while my client’s parents went on a cruise. My client agreed to watch her sister for two weeks. So that gave us her house to kill her uncle. I drugged her baby sister so she would sleep through the night, and the screams would not wake her up. And he screamed like a bitch when I torture his junk.
That’s just what we did. We tortured her predatory uncle’s junk until it looked like raw hamburger meat. And we carved that worthless predatory dick and balls up better than a Christmas turkey. At one point I shoved my panties in his mouth because he screamed like such a bitch. Men can never handle the torture sex of their genitals. But her uncle didn’t deserve to keep them, and he didn’t deserve to live for his crimes. If we kept him breathing, he would assault her baby sister. Not on my watch.
We eventually killed him. I stabbed him right through the heart. My client looked him in his eyes as he took his last breath. And she said the look on his face, the shock that his own victim helped kill and torture him seemed worth it. Moments like that seem priceless.
And men never think women can become sadistic killers, thrill seekers, or revenge champions. Women plan out their murders. We are not impulsive killers. So, I think that makes us far more dangerous. Men never see us coming. I gave this young girl a college discount. Feels good to help other women. She can sleep at night and never worry about her baby sister. She’s safe now. They will never find his body. I buried him in a deep grave in the middle of the woods. I’ll do it all again because like I said, it felt cathartic to me. As I killed him, I just thought about dear old dad.
Most snuff movies are simulated. Not real snuff. Real shit usually never gets uploaded to the Internet. It’s filmed on 8 mm reels and for private use. Obviously, the sort of snuff flicks. I did early on in my adult career were the simulated kind, or I would not be standing. However, in my career as an adult performer and a professional slave, I watched the real ones filmed more times and I can remember.
It used to make me sick to my stomach. And likely it still would, but I developed a coping mechanism. This world is truly survival of the fittest. And you can only survive if you’re scrappy and street smart. Luckily, I have both in droves. But the other night I helped a man make a real snuff porn.
And I can’t get it out of my head. Likely the most brutal thing I ever witnessed. And clearly, I’m complacent in this murder, even though I never laid a hand on the girl while she still could breathe. Perhaps you could say I sold my conscious to the devil for money. I didn’t do this gig because I wanted to. I did it because he paid me well.
This man seemed even more brutal than my former master or any of the men who hired me as their accomplice in the past. Although I did help find the girl, I did not know about his plans for her. I just found him a very young blonde little girl next-door type. When I brought her to the dungeon, he already set up the camera equipment and again I thought he would just explore his rape fantasies. He never mentioned killing her.
After he fucked her, he dismembered her. The cruelest torture I’ve ever witnessed. He started off slowly using gardening shears to clip her nipples off. He did the same to her clit. And he fucked her some more while her pussy bled. Then he used the same shears to clip off every finger and every toe. And I thought I might puke. Although I did go from victim to accomplice once I gained my freedom, I don’t always enjoy my assignments. This assignment tore me apart. But it literally tore the girl I kidnapped for him apart.
This man scared me. He masturbated as he continued to torture this girl and dismember her body. By the time he started cutting off her arms and legs, I think she either died or passed out from the loss of blood and pain. This turned out to be the worst torture sex I ever witnessed. And I needed to clean it all up for him. My hands are dirty and complicit in this one. So, I made sure to get rid of the body and all the evidence of a crime.
I just keep telling myself better her than me, right. Survival of the fittest mentality. But if I need to pay my bills, I guess I need to continue being an accomplice for hire.
