Snuff porn is so popular. It is a dark fetish for so many folks. Even women have snuff fantasies. Some women are really cruel mistresses who love to kill blonde bimbos like me. I answered an ad on the Back Pages for a threesome. It sounded like a hot scenario. I saw pictures of the couple, very handsome. They just wanted a subbie playmate. I fit that bill. When I arrived, I knew something was off. This was no normal couple. More like Bonnie and Clyde or some other deranged killer duo in history. I could see the madness in their eyes. Hers primarily. Her soul was black. I sat down and she spit in my face, then poured her hot cup of coffee on my tits. She scalded my boobs and laughed. Flat out laughed as I cried in pain. I attempted to flee for the door, but he grabbed me. He restrained me while she kicked me repeatedly for hours. I was semi conscious when I got a reprieve. I heard them laughing in the other room. Blood covered my face. I was choking on blood and vomit. I was dizzy. Everything was blurry, but I tried to crawl to the door to escape. I thought I had my freedom. My bloodied hand was on the knob, when something sharp pierced through my ass. The pain was beyond imagine. It came out my mouth and pinned me to the door. I was speared. Spit roasted like a pig. I couldn’t breathe or move. Like road kill, I was waiting to die. Die at the hands of two strangers I thought wanted to fuck a submissive whore. My blue eyes looked at the man for some sort of answer as to why me. He knew that look. He patted my head and said, “Because you are a stupid whore who hooks up with strangers. The only good whore is a dead whore.”
I love fulfilling rape phone sex fantasies. This morning I got to be a little black cock cheating whore who got taught a lesson. I left my ex boyfriend for this big black bull who likes to rough me up. It is okay. I don’t mind him man handling because he has a 13 inch cock. Women will do anything for a cock that big. That is why so many chicks stay with assholes and wife beaters. They have a big dicks. They are only weak for huge cock. Well my ex heard my current boyfriend put me in the hospital. He showed up trying to get me back. He was pretty shocked that I chose to stay with a man who made me black and blue. I had to dish out some tough love. “You are pathetic. You have a little dick. Leroy is more of a man than you could ever hope to be. Now leave,” I yelled at him. I was sure that being humiliating on my porch like that would make him leave. He snapped. He started calling me a Nigger loving whore. Told me I likely have a diseased cunt. I didn’t know who he was anymore. I yelled at him to take his tiny dick off my porch. Fucking fool. Yell all he wants; that is not what makes a man. Every woman knows that cock size is what separates the boys from the men. The moment I started taunting him nonstop about his tiny dick he lost it. Pulled out a knife and stabbed me in the stomach. I fell to the ground. He pulled his cock out and fucked my ass as I laid their bleeding out. He picked up the knife and stabbed me more. This time in my whore bags. He came in me as I took my last breath. He taught this black cock cheating whore her final lesson.
I have been told I am the perfect snuff porn star. I don’t know how to take it. I think every submissive whore fantasizes about being killed at the hands of a strong dominant man, but in reality she doesn’t really want to die. I can’t control fate, however. If I am meant to die at your hands, then so be it. I went out for my morning jog . It was way too hot to be running later in the day. I took a new route through the park. Something hard hit me in the head. I kept running despite feeling dizzy. When blood started running down my face, I knew something bigger had hit me than I thought. I guess my adrenaline was pumping. I stopped, stumbled and passed out after seeing a shadowy figure. I awoke tied to a St. John’s cross with an industrial vibrator torturing my pussy. I started convulsing from the over stimulation. I begged for mercy. If he wanted to explore some rape fantasy he had, I assured him I wouldn’t fight back. “I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt me,” I begged. “I’m not going to violate a diseased whore. I’m just going to bash your brains in,” he replied with an evil laugh. I pissed myself in fear. He sounded like Jack Nicholson in The Shinning-completely deranged. I knew he was serious when I saw the table of torture devices. Deadly items like saws, hammers, butcher knives and chainsaws. He started by ramming a sharp spike between both tits. I let out a blood curdling scream. My tits were spit roasted. He pierced my clit with a similar object. Blood was trickling down my body like I was a Vampire’s bitch. When I started to pass out from the pain, he punched me in the face. The cross I was affixed to spun around. He gave me a spin like an amusement park game as he threw knives at me. One hit me in the femoral artery. Blood gushed out of me. I felt cold, weak….as things went dark, I heard him say, he was going to enjoy my warm dead corpse.
My masters run the gamut. Some are very cruel men who like to inflict pain. Others are more on the sensual domination side. Master Troy is somewhere in between. I was very excited for our date. I groomed myself accordingly as he likes a smooth surface. It began with forced intoxication. He loves to make me sick from alcohol. I had to chug everything from wine to whisky. The combination of the liquor made me puke. I was so drunk I fell down. Slipped in my own puke. As I was dizzy from intoxication, Master Troy barked orders at me. I had to do various tasks. Crawl to him with a paddle in my mouth like a dog bringing him a slipper. He then used that paddle repeatedly on my bare ass. My knees were covered in puked. I was light headed, feeling really ill. He made me chug more booze. Jagermister. It tasted like licorice. It was awful. I would rather guzzle a bucket of cum. That was coming soon. The more I drank, the more I puked. Master Troy was laughing at me. Taking pictures of the “wasted whore.” He kept pushing me down with his foot as I tried to get up. My body was being used as a mop. He pushed my face in the puke. I was so out of it, I licked it up like his pet. I am his pet. I am his whore. I was a hot mess, but that didn’t prevent master from making a gangbang ass rape porn with me as the star. He ushered in a bunch of men I didn’t know. I couldn’t really count, but from the feel of the cocks in my ass it was a lot. At some point I passed out in a pool of puke and cum. Whore written across my face in my own lipstick.
Do you have snuff phone sex fantasies? I swear every caller I get does. They are more common than you think. Either I am the woman who scorned him and he wants revenge or I’m daddy’s little cock teasing whore in need of punishment, deadly punishment. Or, sometimes I am just a random opportunity to do very bad things to; things men have dreamed of doing but fear of prison prevents them acting on their dark desires. Whatever the call, there are literally a million ways to die. They range from simple and quick to elaborate and painful. All of which get my cunt really wet. I know, right? What is wrong with me that I get off on killer phone sex? My psychologist says it comes from feelings of worthlessness. I have daddy issues. Personally, I just think I am a sick and twisted pain slut. Therapy can’t help me. I was a cutter as a young girl. I have little razor blade scars all over my body. I loved mutilating my pretty flesh. Now, I love men mutilating my body. They love it too. I get cut, branded, burned, bruised, stabbed and sliced. The feel of blood trickling or pouring out of me is an arousing sensation. I like being vulnerable. I like not having control. I like not knowing what could happen to me. The more creative you get with our little snuff porn endeavor, the wetter my pussy gets. I have been told too that my screams, pleas and cries are cock hardening. I can’t help it. I love starring in my own horror movie. Well costarring. You are really the star as you have all the power and creative control over my demise. Just promise me you will make it as gory and humiliating as possible.
Domination phone sex is what I want. Sometimes, however, I need to be careful what I ask for because domination comes in all sorts of forms. When I told Max I was a good submissive whore who did whatever she was told, I didn’t think he would make be drink so much. He loves force intoxicating girls. Getting them fall down drunk. All I had in my house was a bottle of Tennessee piss water, some pot and a small bag of coke. That was enough party supplies for me. The Jack Daniels was a gift. I’m a Kentucky bourbon girl. At first it started out as doing shots. A shot then a line and repeat. But he didn’t think I was getting drunk fast enough. I am a tall sturdy girl and a seasoned drinker. That means I can drink a lot, even more than most men. He changed up the game. I had to chug the bottle like it was water. I was gagging. Gulping as much of the whiskey as I could. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt dizzy and sick. I was slurring my words, stumbling. I tried to walk and fell over my couch. Face down in the carpet. I managed to still be talking somehow. I puked. My caller was getting off on that. I don’t remember everything, but I do remember him ordering me to lick my puke up off the carpet. I was so drunk I did it. I didn’t even fake it. I didn’t lick it all up, however, because I puked again. Passed out on my caller. Woke up this morning to an email praising my acting talents. Telling me it was the best and most realistic forced intoxication phone sex call he has ever had. I didn’t really realize I could fake it. I am a submissive whore. I do what I am told, no matter how humiliating and disgusting I find your request.
It’s snuff porn Sunday. Every caller I have had today wants to kill me. That is not unusual, however, most men want to do very bad things to me. I have a tendency to bring out the evil in men. I remember this one time a few years ago. I was on a date with a Wall Street banker type. I had always heard that the men in the most high powered jobs are the ones likely more docile, more submissive with women. It makes sense really. Doctors, lawyers, CEOS… they have so much riding on their decisions, their actions, that they want to give up power in the bedroom. I thought I was safe from a night of abuse going out with Reggie. I met him at a Starbucks. He seemed in awe of my beauty and not in a “I want to take it from you,” sort of way either.
I don’t remember much about the date until I woke up in an executioner’s mask and Reggie was choking me. He degraded me as he abused my body. He ridiculed me for thinking an educated wealthy man like himself would actually want anything to do with a trailer park whore like me. He carved WHORE into my stomach with a razor blade so I would never forget what I am. In fact he sliced my entire body with that blade. Nothing deep, but there was blood. At one point I looked like Carrie at the prom. My entire body was covered in blood. Not enough to kill me, but enough to make me freak out. Enough to leave my body covered in scabs. Enough to cause a lot of pain. Imagine your entire body was covered in paper cuts. That is what I felt like. He mutilated my flesh for hours while humiliating me. He never fucked me. Well not with his cock. He abused my fuck holes with a baseball bat and other innate objects because I was probably “a diseased whore.”
I learned that day that no man is safe. I make even the meekest looking man do very bad things to me.
I have been told I give killer phone sex in more ways than one. I fantasize about being killed. Not accidentally either. I want to die in a very graphic and violent way. That is fitting for a trailer park whore like me, don’t you agree? I deserve the worst treatment imaginable. What can you think up? I love hearing how creative guys get with their snuff fantasies. One of my regular callers loves to torture me with all sorts of medieval devices that inflict horrible pain and kill me in the most violent ways. Another caller finds it hot to beat me to death. His dick gets hard looking at my purple, bloody, swollen body and hearing me plead for my life though gargled sounds as I choke on my blood. Another loves to pimp me out to his sick friends for snuff porn so they can gang bang me into pieces. I had a hot call last night where I was hunted like prey in the wilderness. Hunted like a deer. I was running around in the dark trying to avoid death, but I was not smart enough to escape the dark labyrinth of the woods behind his barn. He shot me in the shoulder to disable me, then like a dead animal, he tied me to a branch and carried me into his cabin in the woods. I was his dinner. The idea of being killed through cannibalism turns me on so much. It is so taboo. He stripped my body of all chemicals, shaved my bleach blonde hair, basted me with a herb butter sauce and put me in an industrial oven to slowly cook to death. He told me I would make a delectable meal. I was plump in all the right places. As my skin crackled and popped, I felt the life being cooked out of me. Perhaps in death, I can serve a man better than I ever did in life. In this case, I was served quite literally.
The first time I did ass rape porn I was so naive. I honestly just thought it was another term for rough anal. When I woke up the next day in the hospital I knew better. I had answered an ad in a fetish magazine for an anal rape porn. The pay was good, but I was 18 at the time and desperate for cash. I was living on the streets as my father had kicked me out. I aged out for him. I had outlived my usefulness. Two hundred dollars seemed like a lot at the time. In hindsight it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t paid to make an ass porn. I was paid for snuff sex. This dude with a monster cock was hammering away at my ass. My daddy use to sodomize my butt when I was young, but his cock was half this size. At the time I remember thinking this must be what it felt like to get a couple black cocks up your ass at once. My ass was bleeding. It prolapsed which at the time I had no clue was reversible. I kept smiling through the pain, keeping my eye on the money. Then suddenly hands were around my throat choking me. My eyes were bugging out, I was struggling to breathe. I heard the director yell, “Finish the whore off.” I somehow knew he didn’t mean make me cum. I played dead. I acted like I passed out. It was a trick I learned when daddy would sneak into my room late at night for special play time. I slowed my breathing down so much, the director actually thought I was dead or damn near it. They dumped my body in an alley, naked in the dead of winter. If I had been unconscious, I never would have woken up. I would have froze to death. Some good Samaritan found me pretty close to dead. He saved my life. I have been getting closer to death every day since. One of these days one of you will finally snuff me out for real.
Snuff porn was not on my to do list when I left the house to run some errands. I can be a dumb clueless blonde. I was self absorbed in my own world as I drove away from the mall that night. I was driving and texting so I never realized I cut a guy off when I ran a red light. Not sure how long he had been following me. I didn’t realize anything was wrong until he ran my car off the road on a desolate side road. I was taking a short cut home, bypassing the highway traffic. I hit my head on the steering wheel. When I looked up a bit dazed, I saw a shadowy figure in front of my car like something out of a horror movie. I rolled down the window thinking I had been in a car accident of some sort. He started yelling about women drivers. He was full of road rage. I got out of the car to apologize, but that angered him further. He punched me in the face. It must have knocked me out because I woke up tied and attached to some metal contraption. It was very dark and damp, clearly a basement. I was naked. I pleaded with him a thousand times over, but his road rage had only escalated. He took a baseball bat and beat me with it. I was helpless, tied up, unable to defend myself from the blows to my body. I felt my ribs breaking. Do you know what happens when your ribs break? They can puncture your lungs. I was starting to struggle to breath. I could taste blood even though I had no head injury. He laughed at me as my lungs filled up with blood. He sodomized me as I was dying. “Only good female driver is a dead one,” I heard him say before everything went dark.
