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I choose knife play phone sex every time. You see, I consider myself a wicked butcher. Plus, the knife seems more versatile as a weapon and less traceable. Even though, if I snuff someone, I never leave the body somewhere it can be found. Nature helps me dispose of human remains. People bury bodies and get caught. Do not bury a corpse. Leave it in a wooded area for coyotes, wolves and bears to eat. Trust me. They will eat it. It seems like resources are thinning for wild animals, so they appreciate the free meal.
Wild animals make great accomplices. Trust me. I know something about this. I try to offer the wildlife behind my home a sacrifice weekly. Sometimes, I have a busy week, and they get a few bodies. Oddly enough, Easter brought out more annoying folks than usual. I thought if they were religious, I would see more kindness in folks. But I saw people spouting Christianity but acting quite the opposite. So, I gave a few women like that blasphemy sex.
One of the cunts I killed, told me Goth girls need Jesus. Called me a Satan worshiper when she rammed her cart into my cart at the grocery store. She looked angelic in a pretty church dress, but she spewed such garbage, I knew she needed to die. Normally, I plan my kills more, but I watched this woman harass most of the other folks in the store for one reason or another. Her death would be a favor to the world. I followed her home. And I watched her house for 6 hours to see she lived alone. No surprise there. Who wants to marry a cunt.
Her house seemed easy for me to break into. As I checked out her home, I grabbed a few of the crosses she had adorning the walls. I shoved one down her throat as I told her fuck her god. And I took another cross and rammed it up her cunt while praising Satan. I drugged her while she slept, then tied her up. She woke up when crosses impaled her body. Torture sex with crosses amused me. She bled as I fucked her to death. Ripped her flesh from her body with the crosses. Destroyed her girl parts. And disemboweled her too.
I did not even need my knives for cunt number one. Turns out with enough strength, a cross makes an excellent instrument to impale the flesh with. And it added a little irony. A so-called Christian died by the cross just like her dead god. I did not clean up the crime scene because I left no DNA. But I did take her body with me and fed her to my wild animal accomplices. They had an Easter feast.
I am a connoisseur of cannibalism phone sex. Something so primal about hunting for your food. I am not a traditional meat lover. In fact, I eat zero animal meat. Not even fish or poultry. But I will eat human flesh occasionally. One male or female body can feed me for months. Girl meat tastes better. I think that’s because female skin is softer, less lean muscle mass that makes male meat tougher to chew regardless of how you cook it.
Two weeks ago, I kidnapped some drunk hot teen slut. Because she appeared so drunk, I had no problem getting her into my car. She sat in a cage in my dungeon for two weeks before I cooked her last night. Daily butter baths softened her skin. I like to eat clean girls. By that I mean, no tattoos or piercings, natural hair color and no Botox in the face. Young girls rarely do Botox, but I have seen a few. I will not put poison in my body by eating tainted snuff sex meat,
This girl fell into my lap. And I took it as a sign to replenish my meat stash. After a couple weeks of butter baths, and high protein meals to fatten her up, I finally spit roasted her last night. But before I could roast her, I needed to drain her blood and take out her organ meat. That gets cooked indoors. And I needed to remove her head. Once I took out the brain, I tossed the head to the coyotes.
I prefer cooking the skin over an open fire. It cooks more evenly. Plus, the smell of burning girl flesh intoxicates me. It has a unique smell. I seasoned my meat before I cooked it. And I put vegetables in her abdomen just like you stuff a turkey. And I ate like a queen last night. A sadistic phone sex queen. But I have plenty of leftovers. Are you hungry?
Knife play phone sex callers usually see my big knife and want me to castrate them. Any man who begs to have his balls chopped off, gets it. This sadistic bitch loves to neuter losers and predators. Sure, I do kill a lot of folks, but sometimes I think it is better to live your life with a constant reminder of what you did or who you were. Men seem to have an unnatural attachment to their balls anyway. They let their dick do their thinking.
Any man I discover preying on my fellow Goth girls, I castrate. And any loser who begs me or pays me to castrate him, gets it too. Some men know that their dicks get them in trouble. And some men understand that no woman wants their useless little nub. No woman, especially not me. David found me on the dark web. He paid me for castration phone sex because his little shrimp dick does not please anyone.
Self-aware men used to be far and few between. However, now thanks to Internet porn, men see how they never will measure up. This poor loser had a dick smaller than my thumb. I considered chopping it off too, but opted not to make him piss through a tube for the rest of his life. See? I am not so bad after all.
My castration chair serves my purpose well. It’s an old death row chair where over ten men died. Perhaps you could say I repurposed it. It is an upcycled castration chair now. The hole I made in the wood plank I affixed to the middle of the chair separates the cock from the balls easily. A castration band numbs the balls. If you leave the band on long enough the lack of oxygen will necrotize the balls. And eventually they turn black and fall off. The band dulls the pain. So, where is the fun in that?
I get off on extreme cock and ball torture sex. So, I used my favorite knife to remove his little worthless sack. He bled, but they all do. And I let him bleed for a few minutes before I cauterized the wound. Where is the fun if you do not suffer a little.
Violent phone sex fantasies should always be explored. But let me be clear. I do not think that role playing helps curb your darker desires. In fact, I think role playing your most violent fantasies makes you want to make them real. True story. Most men who call me tell me they would never do what they fantasize about in real life. But I call bullshit. If they knew they could never get caught, they would get violent in a heartbeat. Plus, the longer you fantasize about something, the more you want to act on that fantasy.
So, I caution men going down a rabbit hole with me because I encourage bad behavior. But I encourage smart behavior too. You cannot just go kill someone without a plan. Nor can you explore your rape phone sex fantasies without a plan either. And this is where I come in. A knowledgeable accomplice can advise you on things to do to avoid detection and prevent you from becoming a suspect in the crime.
I have avoided detection since my teen years. But when I was younger, I killed impulsively. Sort of a gut reaction. And I would have been arrested if my grandpa did not help me. He loved torturing people. Killing them too if he needed. But he always had a plan. And he passed his knowledge on to me. So, now I pay it forward to men like you.
You cannot always kill, or force fuck the subject of your dark fantasies. Sometimes, the person you want to harm is too close to home, which would make you an automatic suspect. So, you need a surrogate. One you have zero ties to and preferably does not live near you either. You need help with DNA cleanup. And establishing alibis. And that is something a seasoned accomplice phone sex partner can assist you with.
We may start off with a violent fantasy, but by the time we finish, you will want to make that fantasy real.
April showers bring killer phone sex bitches like me. Once spring hits, the dumb cunts come out. I live in a sleepy small coastal town. We have a small college, and some businesses, but my town comes alive in the spring and summer because of the vacationers. And that brings me all sorts of dumb cunts to kill. Spring breakers, and bitchy high school girls vacationing with their friends or family. And I love to fuck up a teen mean girl. Someone needs to check them.
Even though I sometimes kill in my town, mostly I hunt in the city that’s about 30 minutes west of me. But sometimes vacationing sluts go missing. Teen girls get kidnapped for sex trafficking often. And some just run away. Since I never leave a trace of the body, it is easy to assume no murder occurred. Police then turn their attention to area predators.
Although, tourist season is not in full swing yet, some high school seniors came to town on their spring break. Rich bitches I assumed because their parents rented them the nicest home on the beach. I thought about calling some of my teen rape porn fans to come in and fuck them all. However, I decided I wanted to murder these mean girls myself.
Rumor got around quickly that they were stuck-up, entitled bitches. They bullied one of the Goth girls in town, who I know. Not friends because I have none, but we know each other from the Goth bar in the city. Four teen bullies, I could handle even though it was 4 against 1. Because I am an excellent murderer, I plotted to take them all out at once.
Once in the house, I drugged each girl. Chloroform knocked them out, so I could get them on the boat quietly. I disabled all the security cameras remotely because I am an excellent hacker too. Although, I could have killed them in their beds, I did not want any blood in the house. That’s the sign of murder not kidnapping.
So, this snuff sex bitch killed and dismembered them on the ocean. Instead of feeding the wildlife to dispose of the bodies, I used marine life. Shark food. They could scream loudly, and no one would hear them but the fish. And I enjoyed carving their flesh and cutting off their limbs. I made it hurt, and I made it a bloody mess. But nothing a hose could not wash away. I find it so much fun to mutilate teen girls or coeds who think their shit doesn’t stink.
I could have been a butcher. No one carves up girl meat like me. No one. Their bodies will never be found. They just vanished in the middle of the night. No suspects and no leads. Only you and I know what happened to those teen bitches. And I know you will not say a word
Cock and ball torture sex is something that brings me so much pleasure. Perhaps you can say I am making this world better for women by neutering tiny dick losers, predators and abusers. Men falsely believe that their dicks are an entitlement. Cocks are a privilege. And I like to revoke privileges. Sometimes I do it for free. Sometimes I do it for a fee.
I always charge men more than I do women. Although I do not have girlfriends and I do not adhere to female bonding, some men I would not wish on my worst enemy. And Trevor appeared to be one such guy. He preys on Goth girls. He might not be a sexual predator; however, he is an asshole with a tiny dick. And I did not know about the tiny dick, until I had him strapped to my castration chair.
I got wind of the fact that this man would frequent Goth bars to look for women to date and use for their money. He dated this one girl that I know from the Goth bar scene and drained her bank accounts dry. Plus, he stole some vintage jewelry from her too. Word got around, and this sadistic phone sex bitch decided on payback. Not because I like this girl or even feel any solidarity with her. However, if his actions have no consequences, he will keep preying on Goth girls.
I set him up. Made him think I wanted to date him and fuck him. Silly boy. Stupid too. I invited him over to my house last night. Spiked his drink. And when he woke up, he found himself naked and bound to my castration chair. Years ago, I inherited this old electrocution chair from the prison my grandfather ran. And I repurposed it. A plank extends from the middle of the chair. When my victim woke up, he found his cock and balls separated on this plank. His cock strapped to the plank, with his balls hanging down below through a hole in the piece of board.
He also discovered that I bound his wrists, head and ankles to the chair. And I placed a castration band called an elastrator on his testicles. It cuts the circulation from the balls. When this happens, the balls turn gangrene quickly. And that makes for easier removal with less blood loss. Although I did not want him to die from castration phone sex, I did want him to suffer. And I wanted him to live with the constant reminder of his actions.
Every action had a reaction. Men need to own up to their actions and suffer the consequences. And when they refuse to admit any wrong doing, I remove their balls so they will never prey on another woman again, especially not a Goth babe.
Snuff phone sex, I do best. The gfe thing, I never do. Perhaps you could call me a black widow. I do not marry men to kill them for their money. However, I will kill a man for not listening to my verbal warnings to get lost or stop calling me baby. Most men see the look in my eyes and know I am not messing around. But some men just do not listen. Not my fault.
Last night, I went to my neighborhood Goth bar because I wanted a drink. Although I do not socialize in that bar, I know most of the regulars and they know me. The bartenders all know me, and what I like to drink. But everyone there also knows I am a loner. And I prefer it that way.
A guy came up to the bar, sat next to me and told the bartender to put my drinks on his tab. He was not a Goth boy or a Steampunk guy either. More like some suit and tie nerd. Even the bartender told him he best move along. But the nerd did not take the hint. So, I looked him right in the eye and said unless you leave now, I will give you free castration phone sex.
He laughed like he thought I might be joking. So, I showed him my knife. But only one. When I go out, I usually have about 5 strapped to my body. The fucking idiot challenged me with, “I’d like you to try, bitch.”
The bartender looked at the guy with shock on her face and told him he better run now. Even though I don’t do not socialize at this bar or any bar, everyone there has my back. In that place, I can get away with murder and mutilation. And I have many times. So, when this idiot did not heed the bartender’s warning, I unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and prepared to chop his dick off in the bar.
This idiot thought I changed my mind and wanted to jack him off. Stupidity deserves extreme cock and ball torture sex. So, I sliced his entire dick off and watched the expression of confidence change to one of horror. He passed out. While he was down, I cauterized the wound to slow the bleeding. Other bar regulars helped me take him out of the bar and into his car.
We drove his car to a park miles away to put him in the front seat. This way he would think he drove himself there. Oh, I drugged his beer. But it did not kick in until after I severed his cock. I planned it that way. And as a final touch, I put his dick on the dashboard. If anyone finds him soon enough, they can likely sow it back on. He will not remember he was at the bar or how he lost his dick. But he will never come on to another woman again.
Knife play phone sex gives me more control over your death. Guns kill almost instantly. But unless you slice the jugular, you can prolong the torture and pain with a knife. Plus, knives require more skill than guns. With guns, you aim, you shoot and most of it gets chalked up to luck.
But to kill, maim and torture with a knife requires precision. And it requires knowledge of anatomy. I know just where to cut and how deep to cut to avoid a quick death. No fun in a quick death. Not for me at least.
Last night, I hunted for girl meat. These two blonde bimbo Barbies walked into a Goth bar drunk as skunks. And they started insulting everyone in there, including me, a sadistic phone sex bitch. Being as drunk as they appeared helped me lure them away. I pretended to be an Uber driver. I have an Uber sign and everything for situations just like this. So, I rolled down my window and showed my sign and asked if they were the ones who called for an Uber. They said yes, even though I knew they did not call.
I took the drunk twins back to my dungeon. And they are still there too. Alive, even if barely. I love torture. And prolonged agony. Knives let me do both. But I kept them alive for other reasons than just my amusement. I am live streaming their torture at my hands for money. Plus, I am auctioning them off. Although they have a lot of cuts on their bodies, they will not exsanguinate any time soon. And if someone buys them before the weekend ends, I will cauterize some wounds and stop any bleeding.
Men love to watch spoiled bitches get their comeuppance. And they love to own private sex slaves too. So, I am hopeful that I will profit doubly off these two cunts. I mean wouldn’t you love to own two coeds to make teen rape porn with?
Snuff phone sex is all I do. Well, snuff, torture, castration and assisting men in force fucking is what I do. I mean I am on a snuff site for a reason. And it is not so men can call me honey and baby. Or expect me to give them the girlfriend or mommy experience either. But every day I encounter more than one dumb ass who clearly cannot read. And sometimes, those dumb asses live near me.
Tyler called me last week. And he called me every pet name in the book despite me telling him not to do that at least a million times. He called me for some boring vanilla shit and did not understand why I wanted to give him castration phone sex instead. The way I see it, if you cannot respect a woman’s boundaries you do not deserve your balls.
So, I Googled his address and found out he lived 10 miles away. That rarely happens. But if I am getting billing info and a guy lives near me, I tell him I am a CA girl. That way I can pay him an unexpected visit like I did to Tyler over the weekend. Of course, the loser still lived at home with his mommy. How pathetic. No way this guy gets pussy. Well, no way now, LOL. I had to stake out his house to learn his habits and figure out a way to remove his nuts without mommy waking up.
This guy gave me Norman Bates vibes. But he will not fuck again. I snuck into mommy’s room first and chloroformed her while she slept to ensure she did not wake up. Then I went to junior’s room, put duct tape over his mouth, strapped him to his bed and gave him some extreme cock and ball torture sex. Just what he needed. However, I wore a ski mask to hide my identity. And I never spoke so he would not know my voice.
I chopped his balls off while mommy slept in the next room. This little bitch boy cried and screamed, but no one came to his rescue. My guess, mommy discovered him the next day with blood all over his sheets and his balls stuffed in his mouth barely breathing. Perhaps, I should have killed him, but I think it will be more fun for him to be without balls or an erection for the rest of his life
Knife play phone sex is my specialty. My nickname is Wicked Butcher. Some folks do not even know my real name. And I like it that way. I do not want my crimes linked to me. I find it much harder to match up a blade than a bullet. But I literally own thousands of knives. And most of them my grandpa purchased on the black market so they would never get linked to him or me.
Some of these knives are centuries old and priceless too. But since so many of them have been used in crimes, I could never sell them. I find knives the best killing tool. I can stab, cut, slice, dice, skin and gut a person with a knife. And I can give a man free castration phone sex with a knife too. It feels more primal to hunt with a knife. Plus, it requires more skill. A bullet only requires decent aim. I’m a hunter. And I like a fair fight.
Usually, I always strap two knives on my body because you never know when you might need to fight. I am tiny. Barley 5 feet tall and less than 125 lbs. Men underestimate me all the time. Sometimes, I like to pretend that I am a helpless dainty girl to lure a predator. Men never see my knife until it’s too late.
A guy underestimated me last night. Thought he could scoop me up and put me in the trunk of his car. I let him think he captured me. But my knife allowed me to fiddle with the inside of the trunk and end up in the back seat of his car where I stabbed him through the seat a few times. Not enough to kill him. But enough to let me gain control of the car so I could drag him out of the car and eviscerate him. And I took my time too.
So, if you try to harm me, you get torture sex for a long time, including cock and ball torture and castration before I kill you. So, this predator lost his balls, lost his cock and eventually lost his life. Men never see me coming. I am like Chucky. Small, evil and violent.