Cannibalism phone sex is a real fetish. And it is a lifestyle for some. Some people just have a special appetite, require a unique diet. One of my Master’s has such an appetite. Today, while I was in his dungeon being tortured, he had a pretty young thing that he had kidnapped for his wife. Master made me watch as he snuffed her out. She laid there on a cold slab, tied down, begging for her life. Master enjoyed watching her beg and plead for survival. Then, with no warning, he slit her throat and watched with joy as the blood gushed out of her neck, bringing her to her death. Master’s wife, drank her blood as it ran from her neck. I was watching in horror, afraid I would be next. I was fleshier than that waif of a girl, and could imagine my body would provide more sustenance for him and his wife.
But this was not about nourishment; it was about teaching me. Teaching me to enjoy flesh. Master dissected that young girl like a butcher cuts up a cow for parts. Master was meticulous in how he filleted her flesh. He made me watch every horrifying cut. He carved her flesh off her bones and put it in a big bowling pot. Flesh stew he called it. Then, the most awful thing I have ever witnessed befell my eyes. He cut out all her organs: heart, brain, kidneys, liver, intestines, lungs… He threw them in a blender and hit puree, making an internal organ smoothie, which he claimed was oh so yummy. He made stew with her flesh and smoothies with her organs. I was mortified and scared.
Master poured that bloody concoction into a big glass, and even put a straw and a stalk of celery in it like it was a fucking Bloody Mary. I thought he and his wife were gonna drink it, but it was meant for me. Master wanted me to taste creamed organs as he called it; not only a delicacy but supposedly a very iron and nutrient rich drink. Master’s wife, who was covered in blood and munching on chunks of flesh, took the ball gag out of my mouth, while he held my head back and forced my mouth open. His wife poured that bloody smoothie down my throat and so I couldn’t spit it out, she put the ball gag back in my mouth. I felt guilty. Not guilty because I was alive and she wasn’t. Not guilty because I was now a cannibal like Master and his wife. But guilty because I liked it.
The last thing I remember was being at the Mall with my girlfriends. We were shopping on our daddy’s credit cards, looking all cute and sexy. Then I woke up hog tied in some basement with a ball gag in my mouth. There was a man in a business suit staring at me. He didn’t look like the BDSM type, but here I was tied to some pole in a basement naked and hog tied. He never spoke to me. He walked over to a big wardrobe, opened it and revealed a huge variety of ropes, chains, collars and whips. I thought was this guy trying to be Christian Gray? He took out a riding crop and rubbed it on my tits that were tied so tight they stuck out like torpedoes. He then started whipping them hard. So hard he drew blood. All I could do was whimper and grimace as that ball gag was so tight in my mouth.
He decided he wanted to whip my ass too but I was tied to a wood pole. So he brought me down and put me in a hogtie position with all four of my limbs tied together behind my back. My legs were spread as they curled up over my head in an extremely painful position. He also used rope on my ass for Kinbaku, which means he tied my ass up using simple yet intricate patterns, with several pieces of thin rope. My ass looked like a tic tac toe board. But this left my pussy exposed which he enjoyed. He shoved a baseball bat up my cunt. He left in there while he started whipping me with a cat of nine tails. I could feel my flesh opening up and blood trickling out of me. The ropes were so tight. I was crying and whimpering but he just kept whipping me more. I had never been in such a tight awkward position. I had no idea why I was here or what I had done to deserve this.
After hours of whipping me with that torturous whip, he moved me back to the poll. He yanked the baseball bat out of my pussy first. He dragged me by my hair, shoved me down on my knees and tied me to the pole. This time he removed the ball gag and shoved his dick down my throat and began skull fucking me before I could even scream. Because I was tied up I couldn’t struggle. But to be honest I felt relived. At least he wasn’t whipping me. He came down the back of my throat and as soon as his cock left my mouth, he shoved the ball gag back in and slapped me against the face. Then he spoke to me for the first time. He asked me if I knew what I had done to deserve this treatment. I shook my head because I honestly did not. I had never seen him before. He gave me a glassy cold stare, smacked my face again and said, “Because you were born.” He then tied the ropes tighter and hung me upside down, put the baseball bat in my ass this time and left the building. I was hogtied, bleeding, suspended upside down with a bat in my ass, crying, wondering if he would ever return…..
When I was a little girl, I was deathly afraid of clowns. I know it sounds ridiculous. Who is afraid of Bozo the Clown? But you see, my father terrorized me when I lived at home. He wanted his sweet girl scared and dependent on him at all times; so he filled the house with evil looking clowns. They were under my bed, lurking in my closet, hidden throughout the dark corners of the house. He somehow even made them move. In hindsight I know it is foolish, but my therapist said a fear of clowns is a common phobia called Coulrophobia. To this day I am still afraid of clowns. I thought I could trust my therapist with my secrets. I was wrong.
This morning I went for my weekly session with Dr. Sandage and he said he wanted to do some hypnotherapy to regress me back to my younger years in order to help me conquer my fear of clowns. I was listening to the sound of his soothing voice when all of a sudden the lights went off and I felt hands choking me. Then a ball gag was slipped in my mouth and my hands and feet were bound. Dr. Sandage was not alone. When the lights came back on, I was horrified to see a room full of evil looking clowns and my doctor dressed up like Pennywise from the Stephen King movie that made me pee my pants. I started crying and shivering. I was naked in front of my doctor and these evil clowns. I peed on myself in fear. This was not therapy. This was torture. Dr. Pennywise was hooking up electric wires to my breasts and my pussy lips. I couldn’t talk with the ball gag in my mouth. I was covered in red and blue just like a fucking clown.
Dr. Pennywise then started making me look at images of clowns and with every image I felt a shock ravage my body. It was a horrifying pain. This went on for hours. I was being tortured. There was nothing therapeutic about what was being done to me. I could smell my nipples burning from the shock. The smell of my own charred flesh made me vomit. I was forced to swallow my own vomit because of the ball gag. What the fuck kind of treatment was this. I was more horrified with every clown face. I was just getting more afraid. My breasts were turning purple from the constant electrodes. I was close to passing out when I saw this huge cattle prod. I smelled like vomit, pee and singed flesh. I had no fight in me left. I could barely moan. Dr. Pennywise and his evil assistant shoved that cattle prod right up my ass. The pain was excruciating. I started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. They fucked my ass with that cattle prod while making me watch It. By the time it was over, my body felt like jelly. All I could smell was vomit, piss, shit, burning flesh and blood. Oh and cum. I could smell cum because they jacked their dicks all over me, covering me in spunk. I was amazed I was still breathing. My heart rate felt shallow. I heard Dr Pennywise say, “Clean yourself up bitch. Therapy is over.”
He untied me, but he didn’t even give me a towel to clean myself up with. I was a weak hot mess. I did my best to get dressed and get out of that evil chamber, but I fell trying to get out the door from fatigue. Dr. Pennywise and his creepy assistant picked me up and tossed me like human garbage onto the curb. I heard them say as I laid on the concrete scared and hurt, “Your’re cured whore.” Maybe, but I now have a terrifying fear of doctors.
It was a dark and dreary night. My car broke down on the side of the road and I started walking along the highway. It was raining and I was cold, so I broke my rule of never taking rides from strangers. But it was an older man, his wife and their college age daughters. They introduced themselves as Rick and Pandora Martin. I was a bit desperate so I got in the back. They said they would drive me to their house so I could call AAA and wait out the storm. They lived just around the corner. Safe enough. So I thought.
Pandora pours me a drink and then excuses herself to freshen up. I’m left in the living room with Rick and their daughters. Before long, I am feeling woozy. Pandora comes out and I can see she looks very different, but my eyes are starting to blur. What did I drink. She is tall, thin, beautiful, goth like in red. Not at all the housewife she was in the car. She comes over to me, kisses me, puts her finger under my chin and coyly inquires, “How are you feeling dear. You look sleepy.” The daughters are giggling like they know something is up and at that moment, a pit forms in my belly. I’m in danger, but from what exactly, I could never have fathomed.
Rick starts pinching my arms and my thighs and my ass. Although starting to slur my words, I try to say, “Stop it, I am not a piece of meat.” I hear Pandora utter coolly, “But you are Cassandra, you are.” More giggling from the daughters. It becomes obvious I have been drugged. I try to stand up, but fall to the ground. I hear all sorts of noises, laughter and Pandora and Rick talking, but I can’t really make anything out. I try to plead with them, but I am sure my speech is incoherent at this point.
Next thing I know, Rick is dragging me downstairs. I am being pulled down the stairs by my long blonde hair like a side of beef. The evil daughters are laughing as they follow behind me. One of them says to me, “This is how we tenderize the meat first.” What? Clearly in my drug induced state I did not hear that correctly. Was this a nightmare? Suddenly, I was propped up in some chair, the girls were binding my hands and my feet. Still sluggish I tried to ask what the fuck was going on? I looked over and on this metal table used for food preparation in restaurant kitchens, was Pandora writhing around like a cat in heat. All of sudden she is masturbating, and cumming wildly in front of me and her hubby and 2 demented daughters.
At this point, I am becoming more lucid, so I try to ask what is going on. Have I been kidnapped by The Devil’s Rejects? They just act like I am not there. Rick is now fucking Pandora on that metal table and the sisters from hell come over and start taunting me. They are saying how delicious I look, and that I better prepare myself for dinner, which is followed my an evil high pitched laugh. Then I see the life size rotisserie rod, and a big vat of chopped veggies. This couldn’t be. They couldn’t be modern day cannibals could they?
Pandora sees the horror and fear in my yes, comes over and says, “Rick, honey, I think our dinner guest gets it now.” I am not only the guest, but I am the main fucking course. Pandora and her daughters pull me up on that metal slab and begin putting all sorts of seasonings on me. One evil bitch girl shoves an apple in my mouth and tells me to oink like the pig I am. I close my eyes tight thinking I can wake myself up out of this nightmare. But when I open them, I see Rick, with a big two pronged fork. I start to wiggle and squirm in an attempt to break free, but Rick just jabs me with that sharp utensil all over my body. My body is marred by little holes. Holes now leaking blood. The girls rush over an start licking the blood slowly seeping out of me. Pandora yells at them, “Don’t ruin your dinner angels.”
I have a huge apple in my mouth, my skin is riddled with puncture wounds, my hands and feet are bound and I am covered in some sort of sweet sticky juice. I’ve been marinated and informed it is to make my skin crackle. At the moment I begin to cry hysterically, Pandora says to me, “There there sweet girl. No need to cry. You are about to do something totally selfish for others. You are going to provide my family with some much needed sustenance.” She snaps her fingers, and her girls tie me to a stick, while Rick shoves my body into the big rotisserie cage. I start praying. I can’t believe this is how my life is gonna end. It can’t end this way.
Rich and one of the girls lifts the cage from one end, while Pandora and the other daughter grabs the other end and they begin to carry me outside. I see the fire pit. I am hanging upside down, in fear and pain as they hoist this device I am in up on to two stakes. Pandora looks at me with her cold dead eyes, lights a match, licks her lips and tosses the match onto the fire pit. I can feel the flames starting to heat my flesh; I can smell the sweet and pungent mix of flesh and Hawaiian marinade; and I can see my world fading fast before me. And, I can feel the horrible pain of having an electric rod thrust through my body.
My flesh is charring fast, the pain imaginable. I’m laying over the heat, being turned by the daughters. I can hear my skin crackling, melting, singing, falling off my bones…The last thing I hear is Pandora’s declaration, “You are just a piece of meat young lady, and we plan to eat you as such.”
One night, many years ago, I was sitting on the couch with a male friend of mine watching a horror movie: “Candyman.” It was pretty scary to me at the time. I commented to my companion that I thought the idea of summoning a dead evil spirit who would control and own you was kinda hot; especially if a big black evil spirit. Well my date did not like that at all. Not sure if he got jealous because I was hinting that I wanted big black cock. Next thing I know he is yanking me by the hair and saying my name over and over in a creepy voice like in the movie. Then he starts to drag me through the house. He throws me down into the basement and locks the door. What seems like hours later, he comes down, strips me naked and ties me up. When I start to scream he puts a ball gag in my mouth just like The Candyman did to some blonde in the movie. He then shows me a hook like the Candyman sports. My eyes get real big and I fear he is gonna ram it up my ass or something. He just kept saying my name “Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra.” It was like he was taunting me. I was his prey, his victim. I had no idea when I came over to watch a movie with him that he had a dungeon in his basement. I could see torture devices, bondage equipment, sex toys galore… He knew what he had planned when he invited me over.
I was tied up to a bench for hours. His Candyman hook used to cut my back, rip my ass open and cut my breasts. Just like the Candyman, he said, “Be my victim.” I could see he was obsessed with horror movies. I saw a Freddy Krueger glove, a Jason hockey mask, a mask and knife like Michael Meyers, a Scream mask, a chainsaw… I was in a horror obsessed serial killer’s dungeon. Is that what he does? Invite a hot woman over for a scary movie then kill her like the madman in the movie?
I could not talk because he gagged me just like the Candyman did. But my head was racing… I wanted to escape but I was tied tightly and mutilated. I tried to escape somewhere in my head to forget the pain, but he kept cutting my back, torturing my ass, ripping my flesh; there was no mercy. As blood was gushing down my back, I felt his cock ram into my ass. He was turned on by the blood, turned on by my gaping flesh, turned on by my pain. He said in a creepy voice as I gasped for life,” They will say that I have shed innocent blood. What’s blood for, if not for shedding?” I prayed for death to take me
I have always been a subby bitch to men; however, when it comes to women I can be a switch hitter. When I was younger, I thought most girls were beneath me. I mean I am a tall beautiful goddess with huge tits. I could steal any man I wanted. In fact, in college, I often did. Not because I wanted the man necessarily, but just because I could. There was this one girl whose boyfriends I regularly stole because she was a fat mean cunt and didn’t deserve handsome men anyway. I saw her recently at the mall and I didn’t recognize her at all as she had lost so much weight and was actually kind of hot. She of course recognized me. We buried the hatchet and she invited me out for drinks. I met her, and I thought all was well, until I woke up in her basement tied to some table spread eagle with a baseball bat up my ass. She was fucking torturing my ass and when I started to scream and plead why, she simply said, “Because I can.” I begged for mercy for my ass. But she kept shoving bigger things inside me. My ass was being shredded. I could feel splinters in my ass. She pulled the bat out and it was covered in blood and shit and she shoved it down my throat and said, “Clean it up whore.” Then I glanced over and I say a medical tray filled with devices and one looked like a cattle prod. I pleaded again, but she didn’t care that I was a changed woman. She was hell bent on her revenge. A cattle prod would electrocute my ass, and may damn well kill me. She looked at me with an evil grin and said, “Cattle prods are hugs with oomph.” She then rammed that thing up my already destroyed ass. The rest is a blur.
Bloody phone sex is what I crave. I am a total whore to blood. When I was a little girl, I cut myself to watch the blood run out of me. I would masturbate as I lay there bleeding. Feeling the warm gush of hot, sticky blood run over my limbs made my clit throb. Now, as a full grown pain slut and subby bitch, I need more. One of my many warped and depraved sexual fantasies is to be kidnapped, strung upside down and sliced open and gutted like the pig I am. My insides falling out of me; totally eviscerated for the pleasure of a blood thirsty cannibal who lay beneath me. In my ultimate bloody fantasy, a sexy naked female cannibal uses a male accomplice to hunt me down like a wild animal. He brings me back to his mistress’s lair, strings me up upside down while I dangle screaming for mercy over her naked body. He then gives her a massive sickle knife and she cuts the arteries in my legs so blood spurts out of me, covering her in my blood. Underneath me she lay, masturbating as my blood drains out of my body onto hers. When I am still breathing, but just barely, almost drained dry of all my blood, her accomplice slices my belly open so my organs spill out onto his mistress, giving her another hard orgasm. Then with my dead carcass above her, they feast on my bloody entrails, saving some of my organs to cook later and eat for dessert.
Do you have bloody phone sex fantasies you want to explore with me? I promise to get off good and hard as you drain me of my blood. Cum gut this pig. You know you want to jack your throbbing cock off as you watch the life and blood drain slowly out of me.
I have some very dark fantasies. Dark desires that just get darker as the days go on. I have one master I speak with who understands my desires, gets the psychology behind my deep sick twisted fantasy world. See, I get so wet thinking about being eaten. Not in the vanilla sense of having my pussy eaten and licked; but in the twisted sense of being cooked alive and eaten. There are tons of cannibal porn sites on the internet that I masturbate to; movies and pictures of hot women like me being kidnapped, tortured and cooked. I want to star in a movie like “How to Cook a Girl,” but I want it to be real. I want it to be a snuff film. Do you have fantasies of cooking a hot bitch who snubbed you? Do just have certain cravings that hamburger or chicken can’t satisfy? Do you get off on hunting a stranger, kidnapping her, then cooking her to a slow, torturous death? You know I look tasty. You know I look like every bitch who ever humiliated you. You know you want to be my Hannibal Lector. Let’s cook up a hot nasty dark scenario where I meet my ultimate demise in your stomach. I bet I am of so yummy.
When I was a younger girl, I would sit on my daddy’s lap and watch movies like Jaws and Anaconda. I belonged to my daddy. He owned me. Instead of reading me books like Goodnight Moon, we would watch torture porn and horror movies. I would get aroused watching Jaws swallow men whole. When Anaconda came out, I would masturbate furiously to it. Something so arousing about the idea of being eaten alive, actually swallowed hole and forced to live inside someone or some thing’s body. My daddy told me I was the not the only one with vore fantasies. He had often jacked off to the thought of swallowing his baby girl alive. That image has been spank material for me for years. First, I want to be out in the wild, hunted like prey by a ravenous mutant snake. I’m scared and hiding, but its keen senses and stealth hunting tactics prove to be out of my skill league. It finds me, and paralyzes me with its toxic saliva. I can’t move, can’t scream. I’m totally helpless. It’s huge mouth opens up and this mutant snake devours me inch by inch, swallowing me whole while my daddy watches and masturbates like the sick fuck he is. I’m sliding slowly into the belly of the beast. Unable to see or move, alone with my thoughts; forced to be inside his belly for years before he digests me or regurgitates my remains. The thought of languishing a slow death inside the belly of a beast soaks my pretty pink cunt.
I have a master who finds the thought of devouring me hot. He doesn’t want to eat me, just swallow me in my entirety. We role play this often. He kneels behind me, with his mouth open wide and my ass goes in his mouth first until he can fold my body like lawn chair and swallow me whole. Of course, as he devours me, his cock is rock hard and he has to stroke it as he feels his belly expanding from having consumed another living human being.
I’m no vanilla girl. I have no desire to be your phone GFE. I want to be your sick, twisted taboo phone sex whore. What wicked, morbid fantasies do you have in mind for us? Would you like to devour me perhaps? 
I have been a pain slut for as long as I can remember. I started young as a cutter, and then graduated to more extreme measures as I grew older. But something I have never been able to handle is fire of any sorts. I have this new master who smokes cigars. Very high end Cuban stogies he gets from Canada. Well he left me alone for a little while this morning and I couldn’t help myself, I had to try one of his cigars. I mean a Cuban cigar is illegal in the US because of some stupid embargo. OMG, it was smooth with such a full bodied taste. I can see why they are coveted and smuggled into the country. Well I got lost puffing on that Havana and masturbating because it tasted so good. I look up and Master is in the door way livid. He lunged at me, grabbed my throat and threw me on the ground. He started kicking me and spitting on me and called me a worthless thieving whore. I tried to apologize; saying a Cuban cigar is something I was always curious about. That was not the right thing to say. He made me get back up on the bed and take the stogie and smoke it the other way. I had to put my lips and puff on the glowing embers. My lips, my tongue were burning; I could smell the flesh, feel the pain. As I was starting to cry, he made me deep throat that lit stogie like a cock. It burned the back of my throat. I could feel the fire in my mouth; I began choking on the blood and the flesh that was melting in my mouth, when Master ordered me to swallow it. I shook my head, tears in my eyes, blood running out my mouth, gagging on the smell of seared flesh, when he slapped me so hard, I swallowed the burning cigar. The pain was inconceivable. I could feel the burning sensation traveling down my esophagus. The smell of my burnt flesh was waffling through my nose. I thought I was going to vomit. My stomach was on fire. I could almost see a hellfire glow through my belly.
I thought he was done torturing me, but said the fun had just begun. I was a dirty stupid cunt who couldn’t keep her hands to herself and needed to be taught a lesson. I was laying there sick, and in so much pain, when he came at me with a big fat lit stogie and started burning the word thief across my breasts. I was being branded, slowly and painfully so I would never forget what happens to thieves. I knew better than to cry or beg for mercy. But it was hard to not scream as my flesh was melting off my body. He had more in store for me too. He tied my burning body up over the bed and double penetrated me with burning cigars. I have had a lot of things in my ass and cunt but never a lit stogie. My ass and pussy were branded for life. I could feel my insides melting and burning. My skin was scorched from head to toe. It was a sweet, acrid, lingers in-your-nose-forever charcoal smell. It’s a smell so strong that I could taste it. The smell and taste of my own charred flesh was the worse smell ever.
There was not an orifice or area of flesh my Master did not burn me with a stogie to teach me a lesson. My pretty alabaster skin is forever ruined. I am scarred for life and will forever carry the singe marks of shame for smoking my Master’s Cuban cigar. Yet somehow, through the horrible pain, I was aroused. Maybe, you would like to be my new Master? Find some painful, degrading way to arouse me? My pain, as always, is my Master’s pleasure.
