I have cannibalism phone sex fantasies. I know that is pretty sick, right? I fantasize about being killed, cooked and eaten by a man. Not sure where my fantasies come from. I am a submissive whore, but I want to live. Well, most days I want to live. I saw a movie a couple years ago called The Green Inferno. It is a horror movie about some college do gooders lost in Amazon jungle. They find a lost tribe who thinks they are dinner. Watching men and women being tortured as meal preparation made my pussy wet. I started thinking about a hitchhiker picking me up and having me as dinner. I thought about meeting the real Hannibal Lector and him dining on my flesh. The idea that I can serve a man better in death than I can in life gets me off. I don’t want it done slowly though. I want to be tortured first. I also want to be seasoned. Sautee my tits in an olive oil, butter my insides as well as my outsides and season me with some garden vegetables. I want the man who consumes me to get a hard cock smelling my flesh burn. So, what do you think? We can make a snuff porn and have dinner together!
Bondage phone sex is unpredictable. I sign up for some BDSM games and sometimes it gets out of control. Last night was one such night. I responded to an ad for an experienced BDSM model. I have been a fetish model for 15 years now. I have been a highlighted model on all the top fetish sites too, so I thought I would be perfect for the job. It was a scam. When I arrived, I was trapped. There was no modeling gig. I was forced to do life sex shows. BDSM sex shows for an online audience. The director was my captor. He showed me pictures of previous models. They were all dead. Beaten to death it looked like. I was going to be making a snuff porn if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I was duped into being a sex slave. I spent the entire day getting fucked in the ass. That wasn’t all either. He choked me repeatedly until I passed out. He would put something under my nose to revive me, just to choke me out again. I was screaming for help, but his audience thought it was staged. I was a trapped fetish model, forced to do live BDSM shows or die. I managed to escape only because I have been a prisoner before. I am sure I will be again too.
Domination phone sex is what I get for The Fourth of July. I hate fireworks. Never been a fan because I startle easily. Master knows this and he had a special celebration for me at the strike of midnight last night. He started his 4th of July celebration with fireworks. He was not shooting them off in the back yard with friends while drinking. He was lighting them off in his dungeon near my naked body. It was to terrorize me. I suffer from PTSD from my youth. My sadistic father would toss caps and other loud firecrackers at my feet and get off on watching me piss myself and cry. Master is even more sadistic than my father. He put a bunch of firecrackers in my ass and let them off. They burned my asshole and the flesh on my butt checks. It was torture sex, pure torture. They joked about my burning flesh like it was nothing. They pissed on my ass to put out the flames, but I knew better. They wanted to hurt me even more. Piss on my open wounds brought me to tears. They just laughed at the cry baby who didn’t like fireworks. They have been gang banging me ever since.
Rape phone sex fantasies are not just fantasies. Ask any submissive slut. She will tell you there have been a man or four in her life that have had their way with them regardless of their wishes. I was on a date last night. A man I met in a bar. He appeared normal. I mean he didn’t appear to be a sadist. I got no master servant vibe from him. I didn’t even tell him about my pain slut, subby sex slave life. I thought for once I could have a normal date with a man, but apparently that is not in my cards. We had a nice night, but I shouldn’t have gone back to his place for a night cap. He was giving me the I want to fuck your brains out vibe, but I wasn’t ready to have sex with him yet. I am trying something new. Waiting, having value in my body, so men will treat me with respect. When I told him no, he took what he wanted. First, it was my ass he used. With my hands pinned behind my back, he treated me like his personal ass rape porn star. My ass was sore and gaping open. That was just the beginning. He dragged me by the hair kicking and streaming to his bedroom. He tied me up and fucked my cunt while trying to strangle me too. He beat me and fucked me for what seemed like an eternity. And just when I thought he was done, his friends showed up to join t he party. I guess I am never going to find love and respect from a man. Every guy I meet wants to kill me or violently fuck me. There is no in between and I guess there never will.
I put an ad on a fetish site for snuff sex. I was feeling kinky. You inspired me. I spend so much time on the phone getting fantasy slain, that I wanted a more authentic feeling experience. It was stupid. It was dangerous. It was one of the hottest experiences of my life. Many men responded to my ad. Turns out quite a few men love the idea of no taboo fun with a snuff whore. James was the man I selected to meet. Not sure why, but he sold himself well as a lifestyle BDSM slave owner. When I arrived at his house, I was led to his dungeon. Hot damn, he was serious. He had a bed with a cage underneath for his slave to sleep. He had every BDSM device imaginable. I was looking for more than BDSM fun, however. I wanted violence. I wanted torture sex. That was when he led me to a room I never would have known existed. He called it his Disappointments Room. It is based on Gothic history. It was a room in a house to hide people, mostly retarded, sickly and deformed offspring, wives and family from the public. It was like these individuals never existed. They never knew life outside this room. It was horrifying to think that a man like James could keep a slave hidden away in his own home and no one would ever know she was there. I was about to enter this room but was not sure I would ever leave. He tied me to a table with leather restraints. He pulled out a bunch of surgical instruments and that was when I had regrets. He told me what a stupid whore I was, as he sliced flesh from my breasts. He mutilated my breasts and my pussy, performing Dr. Jekyll experiments on my sex organs. I saw the camera rolling and knew this was a snuff porn and likely not one I would survive.
Body built for taboo phone sex was why he called me. He said I looked like a woman who could handle some pain. He had no idea. As a teen girl, I was a cutter. It didn’t start off as liking pain. It was because it was what I could control. How deep I cut, how long I cut myself for, where I cut myself were all variables within my control. A few years later, I was using razor blades on my flesh because I needed pain to cum. I am no longer a young girl. I have been inflicting pain on myself and letting others inflict it on me, so I am now a seasoned pain slut. When Ted told me to do things to my body, he thought I was faking things because I was not crying, I was moaning. Pinching my clit, slapping my ass, pinching my nipples is youngster play to me. If you want to hurt me, you need to bring your A game. Once I told my caller I was a seasoned pain slut he had me burn myself with a cigarette. Now that hurt because I burned my clit. I also rubbed Icy Hot up my asshole for him and I won’t lie, that hurt. I am pain slut. It just takes the right sadistic man to find my pain threshold with torture sex. Is that you?
I didn’t believe in hypnosis. That all changed when I met Pat. He wanted to help me slay my inner demons. That was only partially true. He wanted to get in my head and fuck with it. He brought out Cassie, by inner bad ass bitch. Cassie betrayed me. She told Pat things I don’t even admit to myself. Dark things about my father. I think he talked mostly to Cassie and the two plotted against me; played mind games with me. I am terrified of two things in this world: spiders and my father. Ever since Cassie ratted out my secrets to Pat, I am having the most terrifying nightmares. The one that haunts me the most is being tied to my bed with what appears to be a spider’s web. I hear a noise, a loud noise then I see it. A monster in corner of my room. One leg comes out of the darkness, then another. I suddenly realized this 8 legged freak was Godzilla sized. My heartbeat is racing so fast, I think my heart might burst. As the freaky ass spider approaches me, it’s head turns into my father’s face. Suddenly, it is half man and half spider, a metamorphosis of my two greatest fears. Then, the creature made an ass rape porn with me. I was never so scared in my life. But it is lingering. This fear I have of my father showing up at any moment again. I didn’t believe in hypnosis until I met Pat. Now, I am mind fucked forever.
Bondage phone sex keeps me tied up and busy. I recently traveled to a different city for a modeling shoot. The studio paid me handsomely. It was a fun shoot. I had to be in pristine shape before the shoot meaning that I could not any cuts or bruising on my body. I had to restrain from any BDSM fun, so after the shoot, I was fucking horny for some pain and cock. The photographer had a major hard on for me. He was a handsome bad boy. I know bad boys are bad for me, but I am addicted. He looked like my worst nightmare and that made my cunt super wet. I have a thing for sadistic men. My need for a hot bad man will get me killed one of these days. He took me to dinner first, so I thought maybe he was not as bad as I thought. Dinner was just a distraction. When we arrived back at his dungeon, he strung up to the rafters. I was suspended like a side of beef in the air. He turned off all the lights. It was disorientating and scary. There was a long pause in time before he started flogging me. I didn’t know how he did it. It felt like every angle was covered. I thought there had to be more than just one man whipping me. I was right. The lights came on revealing the entire set of the fetish shoot. They all wanted to bruise up my pristine body and they did. I was cover in welts and bruises quickly. I was hoping to be gang banged, but they all agreed I was likely a diseased whore, so I was just whipped until my skin was a far cry from pristine. The life of a bondage whore.
I made a gangbang rape porn last night. I was walking home drunk from a bar. I don’t live far from where I was drinking. I took a short cut thru the warehouse district. Some teens were getting high and skateboarding. I didn’t give them much thought actually until one skater boy stopped right in front of me and asked if I wanted some weed. They seemed harmless, but they were far from that. The others swarmed me too. I was under siege. They ripped my clothes off and duct taped my hands and feet to restrain me. I was tossed on the grown like a piece of trash. They called me a blonde bimbo and a whore as they took turns sodomizing my ass and fucking my cunt. They flicked their ashes on me, spit and pissed on me. When one of the hooligans showed me a switch blade knife, I panicked. Honestly, I was afraid I may not survive the assault. They all kicked me like they were reenacting a scene from a Clockwork Orange. It was awful. I was crying and begging for them to stop. They carved a big W for whore on my belly. I only survived by luck when a car drove by asking for directions. That stranger didn’t help me physically but he saved my life because in that moment I was able to break through the tape on my ankles and run naked home.
Torture sex is what I deserved. At least according to Samuel. What were my sins? Making his coffee with artificial creamer and not 2% milk. We were out of milk and I didn’t want to walk to the store, so I used the artificial creamer. Big mistake. One I paid for dearly. I heard him summon me to the basement. I honestly wasn’t sure at the start what he was pissed about until he asked me how he likes his coffee. In my mind it was not a big deal, however, the way he saw it, I deserved the death penalty. He tied me to a chair. I was stripped naked and my boobs were bound tightly. So very tightly that they started to turn colors. He then used them as punch bags. I thought he might bust one of my implants because he was punching my boobs so hard. He was spouting off about rules as he punched me. That was not all he did. He fisted my pussy and ass. He joked that I was lucky to be alive because he has killed for less. He scared the crap out of me. He beat the crap out of me too. He left me tied up for hours afterwards. I pissed myself. He just laughed at me when he finally released me and told me to make his coffee correctly or the next time or die. After what he did to me, I have no reason to believe he was bluffing.
