Torture sex is what he made me endure for hours. Sexual mutilation with a sadist was not what I signed up for. I met him online and we clicked. I never told him I was a submissive whore. I didn’t want him to think less of me. I try to have normal adult relationships even though I know I don’t deserve them. He was a poser. He was friends with Master and they set me up. I had to be punished for being a cheating slut and thinking I was worthy of a man’s affection. He drugged my drink and when I woke up, I was hanging from a beam naked with my clit tied up and puffy. My master was there assisting with an evil grin on his face. I knew that look and I was in trouble. Maybe enough snuff porn trouble. He threatens to kill me all the time. Somedays, I wish he would. It was hard to hold back the tears as I knew what was coming. I saw the torture instruments. He had on a table in front of me a blow torch, various knives, a taser and clamps. The thought of a blow torch to my clit made me piss myself. “See something you like Cassandra,” Master seethed as he touched the blow torch like he was reading my mind. He knows my fears. He lit it and laughed. His accomplice thought he was just taunting me. When Master actually melted my clit away, his partner puked and passed out from the grotesque image of my mutilated girl parts. The smell of burning flesh lingers in your nostrils for days. I was in shock from the pain. I puked, but didn’t pass out, which might have saved me. In Master’s eyes, I was tougher than his failed assistant. He turned the blow torch on his balls and dick and I was just grateful the focus was no longer on me.
Ass rape porn star is what they called me as they were sodomizing my ass on the pool table of the bar. I stopped in for a drink after a night out with my girlfriends. It is my local dive bar. They know me there, but the crowd was different last night. It was mostly younger guys, not the old drunks who flirt with me and buy me drinks. These guys weren’t interested in flirting with me. They acted like I owed them attention or something. When I started to leave because there were no men in the bar, just boys, one of the dudes grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my arm. Another guy hit me in the back of the head with a beer bottle. Blood started trickling down my face. They joked about retarding me. I was stumbling to get out of the place, but they grabbed me and tossed me on to the pool table. They ripped the clothes from my body and fucked me with beer bottles. Sodomizing me with beer bottles was their forelay. No one would help me. I felt like Jodi Foster in The Accused. I went from ass rape to gangbang rape porn star when they started fucking me several at a time. I wasn’t drunk enough for this shit. What I wanted didn’t matter. They came in me and on me as they joked about the blonde bimbo up for grabs. I had to crawl home from the bar battered, bloodied and naked.
I have violent phone sex fantasies. Do you have fantasies about beating a bimbo dead? I hooked up with Trevor after months of cyber sex. We met in a fetish chat room. I had dark fantasies about being beat to death and he always wanted to kill a worthless bimbo like me. On fetish sites you never know if folks are for real or not. I thought we were talking fantasy and maybe if we hooked up in person, we could do a snuff roleplay. I enjoy being smacked around and BDSM games. When I met him, he escorted me to his dungeon. He seemed like a regular man with some kinks. I like kinks. He stripped me naked and tied me up. I was spread eagle with ropes, so my body made an X. He strapped one of those industrial vibrators to my pussy and turned it on. It was moving fast on my clit causing me to cum over and over. Soon it became too intense. I begged him to stop it. He punched me in the gut hard. I thought I might puke. I held back the tears and braced myself for the pain I knew was imminent. He started using my body as his private punching bag. He went Mike Tyson on my boobs until he burst each saline bag. Then he laughed at my lopsided boobs. He was not one of my fantasy phone sex callers. This man wanted to make his dark fantasies come true with me. He wanted to hurt me dead. He kept mixing pleasure with pain until I was puking and bleeding all over my naked body. I was close to passing out when he revived me with smelling salts. “I want you to feel every inch of me whore,” he seethed in my ear. Every inch was not his cock but his fists. He didn’t kill me only because I am one tough broad, but he left me for dead. I survived out of tenacity and because I want you to be the one to finally snuff sex me to death.
He wanted to make a snuff porn. I just didn’t realize he wanted me to be his star. I thought he wanted a young girl and I would get to be his accomplice like I have so many times before. I thought I had been bringing him good cunts to kill. My usefulness to him was over. I agreed to a snuff movie, and he punched me. Knocked me out cold. I woke up tied to his torture board. The cameras were pointed at me. No other girl was in the dungeon but me. I was scared. I was terrified actually. I never saw it coming. Honestly, I thought I had served him well. He told me I was used up and boring. He needed some excitement and something tighter on his dick. I feared how he would kill me. Snuff sex with him is always gory and violent. He was playing around with matches like that was a hint. Then the smell of gasoline hit me, and I peed myself in fear. He was going to burn me alive like I was a witch. He started dousing my body in gasoline. I cringed and begged for mercy. He pulled out his cock and got off on my fear. He came on me as he struck the match. He had an evil grin on his face as he tossed the match. I went up in flames. I could smell my flesh burning. I could feel it. It was like I was in hell. I couldn’t believe he was doing this to me. I had been his accomplice for years. I brought him lots of tender age flesh to kill. It was my turn to die and what a horrible way to die too. He burned me alive in his basement, by the time he put out the flames, I was a crispy critter.
Torture sex is what I endured for hours on end over the weekend. I disappointed master by being a cheating whore. I know I need permission to do anything, even to take a pee. I went to a new fetish underground club and didn’t tell him. He was checking it out too and I got busted red handed. I thought he was going to let it slide. He just gave me a disapproving look, but he didn’t act. I should have known better. He once broke my arm for forgetting to flush the toilet after he used it. He is a mean SOB; he wouldn’t let anything go. Three days later I got my punishment. It was the worst punishment he has ever inflicted on me. He tied me up, which is nothing. I thought he was going to put oranges in a pillow case and beat me. Honestly, he has almost killed me with that method a couple times. Once I saw the firecrackers, I was praying for a pillowcase of oranges. He tied me up and suspended me form his beam. The beam is just high enough that I can’t touch the ground, so it is very painful. He shoved a roman candle in my ass and lit it. He counted down the explosion getting erect at my fear. He laughed when my ass prolapsed from the explosion. My ass exploded too. My blood, shit, and flesh splattered against the wall. I was pretty sure my ass was gaping even more than an ass rape porn star. Blood was running down my legs. My ass was burnt and mutilated. I was shaking, almost in shock and definitely in need of medical treatment. Master was just laughing and stroking his cock. “Now that your perfect body isn’t so perfect anymore Cassandra, perhaps you will think twice about cheating on me,” he seethed. I may think twice about even sitting now that my ass is charred and mutilated.
I have cannibalism phone sex fantasies. I am a sick bitch. I am tall with meat on my bones. I love the idea of being cooked alive. My deep dark fantasy almost came true last week when I was hitchhiking. I know today, hitching a ride with a stranger is dangerous. Very dangerous. My car died on the side of the road. It was 95 degrees outside. I had to get in a car. My car was not the only one overheating. A nice older couple picked me up. Honestly, I thought they were harmless grandparents. I didn’t think they could be flesh eating zombies. They gave me a bottled water to cool off. It was obviously spiked because the next thing I knew, I was naked and bound with a stick up my ass. They were putting something on my body. It was butter. Melted butter mixed with herbs was all over my body. I was scared. This was not a fantasy. I was not having a nightmare. Grandpa and grandma were going to cook me alive and eat me. I was dinner. They were singing and smiling like nothing was unusual. I think there is something unusual about cooking a 150-pound blonde goddess alive. When I tried talking, they shoved an apple in my mouth like I was the main course at a Hawaiian luau. There was a huge pot of boiling water in the corner. I knew that was where I was going next. As a blue haired granny, took sticks of butter and rubbed them all over my body, grandpa cut veggies into the pot. I didn’t think they could move me to the pot. They were old and frail looking. They didn’t need too. They rang a bell and an army of inbred mother fuckers hungry as fuck came and dumped me into the boiling water. I passed out from the pain, so the rest went blank. I hope I fed the family from Deliverance well. Maybe I can bring more satisfaction in death than I could in life.
Torture sex is the only sex I get, he informed me. I had passed out at a party. It wasn’t a freaky S & M party, but the private party afterward certainly was a kinky nightmare for me. I woke up suspended from a rafter in the great room stripped naked. It was like a bad slumber party from my youth. If you fell asleep first the other girls put your hands in water, so you would pee your sleeping bag. I got too drunk, passed out and became the host’s sex slave. He had an array of scary BDSM equipment hanging from the wall. It was like he was just waiting patiently for a whore like me to get way too drunk. First came the nipple clamps. Second, came the whipping and flogging. He used a switch first but found he liked his leather belt the most because it welted my skin. The more I cried or begged to be released, the harder he whipped me. He focused on my tits for a solid hour it felt like. My big fake funbags grew a size from the swelling. He enjoyed making my tits inflamed. Just when I thought he was done because his arms seemed tired, the abuse took a turn for the worse. He invited his party guests to take turns whipping and punching me. Men and women slut shamed me and took turns abusing my body. One guy punched me so hard, he popped a saline bag. I guess I know now never to pass out at a party. My body looks like I had snuff sex all night. I am black and blue, even purple and red. I am covered in welts and I have lopsided tits. Just a day in the life of a submissive whore.
It was a gangbang rape porn audition he said. I was hesitant because the place looked scuzzy and nothing like the picture in the ad. I have been fetish modeling for years, but legitimate studios don’t make you audition like this. There is never any actual fucking before being hired. I needed the money. I should have listened to my gut and ran, but I thought maybe this is how that studio does things. When they tied me up with rope, it was too late to listen to my gut. I was bound and not going anywhere but on all fours. It was me, three men and the producer. He claimed he needed authenticity; that he needed to know I could convey real pain and dismay. He had no clue who he was working with. I am a snuff queen and a pain princess. The room smelled like death. There was no light. The stains on the old casting couch may have been blood. I tried not to think of shit like that as they took turns ass fucking me and gaping my pink pussy. They were rough with me. Hands around my throat, hair pulling, ass smacking, even a few cigarette burns. They urinated on me like dogs marking their turf. The producer wasn’t filming a thing. He was just watching as these men force fucked me for hours. They were on some Viagra shit because none of them ever went soft after cumming. I was coated in cum. Because they fucked me so forcefully, I was bleeding. They laughed at the shit and blood I left on their cocks as they made me clean up the mess I made. I was there all night, tied up and used as a fuck doll. This was no audition, this was snuff porn. They tried to fuck me to death. They came close, but again, they had no clue who they were dealing with.
Strangulation phone sex leaves me begging for more every time. I am an erotic asphyxiation girl. I have always enjoyed rope, ties, collars and scarves around my neck. I have hidden my many bruises over the years with choke collar necklaces and silk ties. Jim knew my secret, however. He hates me. I never meant to tip my hat to him at a party. I got drunk and ran my mouth to a girlfriend about by dark fetish. He overheard us and used it to his advantage. He has hated me for years because I rebuffed him. He has been trying to date me for years, but he is neither rich or handsome. Plus, he is not a dominant man. Years of sexual frustration and rejection turned into anger towards me. He drugged my glass with something potent. When I woke up, I was naked with a choke caller on and in his house. I know he has rape fantasies about me. I was afraid, those fantasies were about to become a reality. He had no desire to fuck my whore holes. He said he realized years ago that I was likely a diseased skank. I had never seen this side of him. Jim was a mild manner geek with a paper pushing job. I only knew him because he was the brother of a friend. He told me if I was such a kinky slut, then I wouldn’t mind him choking the shit out of me. I thought this was some sort of snuff porn hoax. I mean he didn’t have it in him to hurt me. I was wrong. It wasn’t the first time, but I think it would be my last time. His hands went around my neck so tight that I passed out. I felt blood welling up in my throat when I woke up. I started choking on my blood, then everything went dark.
Master pimped me out for some torture sex. He needed money and he said I was his only commodity. He sold me for the day to a bunch of hillbilly farmers. Apparently, it was National Corn on the Cob Day. As they strapped me down to some machine used to husk corn, the boys from deliverance had an evil grin on their faces. I swear, I felt like I was in a Wrong Turn movie. They were in overalls, missing many teeth and looked like they were a few generations into inbreeding. My only hope was that they would force fuck me with corn on the cob instead of their hillbilly dicks. Be careful what you wish for. They had a barrel of freshly husked corn for my fuck holes. I swear, I heard Dueling Banjos playing as they grabbed corn ears to sodomize me with. They had a sick way of celebrating National Corn on the Cob Day. They made an ass rape porn with me as the star, rather my asshole as the star and corn cobs as my co-star. You wouldn’t think that corn on the cob would hurt, but when you have inbred freaks shoving 4 and 5 ears of thick corn in your ass at once, you are screaming bloody murder. I was out in some desolate corn farm too. No one could hear my screams. I tried to think of something else, anything else, but these inbred mother fuckers smelled awful. They were hands down the most disgusting men master has ever sold me too. I was the star of some bizarre corn on the cob snuff porn. I was trying to see the positive. Corn on the cob was better than their cocks. Corn on the cob was just foreplay. After my fuck holes were bloody and gaping, they hillbilly fucked me. Their dicks were dirty and deformed, likely diseased too. Who would have thought I would have ever wished to be gang banged by corn on the cob over cock. Happy Corn on the Cob day my ass. I don’t think I can ever look at corn the same way again.
