Most commented posts
- Cannibalism Phone Sex: Why I love Fall! — 96 comments
- Snuff Sex with a Little Girl — 14 comments
- Snuff Porn in a Haunted Corn Maze — 13 comments
- Make Snuff Porn, Don’t Watch It — 13 comments
- Snuff Porn Cannibal — 8 comments
October is not just for watching snuff movies. For sadistic bitches like me, October means making snuff flicks too. The bloodier the better. I am not for the weak of heart. I am not for first time callers or any man with mild or vanilla fantasies either. Only seasoned snuff connoisseurs or masochistic men should call me.
I can make men cry. My voice is not a giggling teen voice. Fuck that shit. My voice sounds more like a mature seasoned bitch whose has seen and done some shit. I even did some shit last night. Wicked shit too. As I drove home from my Goth bar last night, I happened upon a drunk coed driving erratically on her way home. She had no business driving drunk. Although she did appear to take the less traveled road home, she almost ran me off the road.
So, I ran her off the road instead. Sure, I could have been noble. Perhaps a good woman would call AAA and drive the drunk girl home. But no one considers me a good woman. No one. I took her to my kill shack instead. Too bad you were not with me to explore your rape phone sex fantasies. As soon as I got her into my shack, she puked. I made her lick it up. No one makes a mess in my home but me. I like to make bloody messes.
I needed to hold a knife to her so she would be obedient. Drunk coeds deserve to die. Even drunk they still act and behave belligerently. Perhaps, I intended to help the girl. She showed no appreciation for saving her drunk life, so I sodomized her with a beer bottle. I pissed on her face. And I even double fisted her two tightest holes. The bitch appeared to like it, so I switched from my fists to my knifes. Now, she did not like it so much. Okay, she did not like it at all.
I stabbed her cunt and her ass until her insides fell out of her holes. You can eviscerate a young girl from the outside with long, sharp objects. Now, it looks like a painful way to die. But no cunt should die quickly. Cunts deserve killer phone sex. And they deserve to die slowly and painfully. I told you I might not be your cup of tea. My mind runs dark as the night. Think you can handle being my partner?
Bloody phone sex might be what you get with me. I love a bloody massacre. Perhaps, I bathe in the blood of virgins. No Botox for me. Just blood. My last victim turned out to be a fighter. Usually, when I kill a young girl, they give in quickly. Not this brat. She scratched me a few times with her fingernails. But no teen girl can ever get the better of me.
Her fighting me, just prolonged her death. Made me want to torture her more. This kill served as an early Halloween present for me. I picked this brat up at the mall. She appeared alone, but she caused a stir. Almost every store she went into she acted prissy and mean. Demanding sizes and outfits not even in the store. She kept saying things like, “Do you know who my daddy is?” I watched in horror as the staff bent over backwards for this teen whore.
However, all I could think about, was the torture sex this brat needed. I did not care who her father was. No one should talk to other people the way she did. And no person deserves to be catered to and coddled like this little teen bitch. I needed to put her out of everyone’s misery because that monster inside her would only continue to grow.
Not any more though. I fed her to the coyotes. But only after 8 hours of torture and pain. Although initially I struggled with the bitch, I got her tied up and gagged. However, I did underestimate her strength. Hell, hath no fury like a mean teen girl, LOL. However, I like a struggle. Keeps my skills sharp. You want to know what else is sharp? The knife I carved her up with.
I cut off her nipples first. Then I sliced off her labia lips and ate them in front of her. I like to eat pussy too. I carved her flesh until she looked like she had been skinned alive. Perhaps, I should have been a butcher, LOL. I am good at carving up meat. By the time I finished with this girl, she begged to die. The only thing different I would do with this girl if I could kill her again would be to invite you to help. I like to combine snuff with teen rape porn.
Torture phone sex calls make me wet. Not much makes my Goth gash purr better than human torture. I do not torture animals. I respect animals because they help me dispose of your remains. But a man, I can torture until he dies from the pain. A quick painless death? Nope. Not with me.
Most of the men I torture do not beg for it. But this one did. And I found him so pathetic and so worthless, that I did it for free. Sometimes men find Goth girls like me hanging out in Goth or Steampunk bars. When they come into a bar filled with folks like me, they stick out like a sore thumb. And for whatever reason, they gravitate to me. Like I have a loser magnet inside my body somewhere, LOL.
Well, I could have that removed, but I love ridding this world of losers with torture sex. James found me and begged for me to kill him right there. Trust me, I considered it. But public slayings or impulse kills not my style. I stay under the radar. That’s how I avoid going to prison. However, I will slaughter a loser in my kill shack any day.
Although I practice good cleanup measures, if the FBI raided my kill shack, they might get confused by all the DNA found inside. But no one knows how to find my kill shack. Thats because it is located seriously off the grid. I felt like this loser James deserved some medieval torture. Since my grandpa was a sadist, I inherited his collection of fine medieval torture devices. I put James on the rack. And I slowly turned the crank to stretch him until he tore in half.
It took hours at the pace I went, but I love prolonging agony. Watching someone die from pain slowly, I find erotic. I can smell pain. I can smell fear. When James finally tore in two, his upper body did not know he had been severed yet. While his brain caught up to his body, I sat on his face. My Goth gash was the last thing he ever saw in his final snuff sex moment. When he died, I fed him to the wildlife. Now, I am on the prowl for my next loser. Maybe it will be you.
Evil phone sex. I like the way it sounds. E V I L. That describes me. Once, when my mother took me to a shrink, the doctor said I did not show any classic sociopathic tendencies. Well, that’s because I do not fit any mold. Most serial killers got a taste for torture when they were schoolboys because they tortured animals. Not me. I love animals more than humans. I would kill you to save a squirrel. And I am not joking.
I could never hurt an animal. But I do not have any issues hurting people. My first victim, I killed accidentally. My schoolgirl bully. I stabbed her in the woods when she followed me home from school to torment me. My grandpa covered it up. Still to this day, the local police have her listed as a missing person. My grandpa taught me everything I know about killing. And he taught me how to get away with it. Serial killers get caught because they have a pattern. To the cops, my snuff sex deaths appear random. No connection. Most of my victims never get found.
The key to my success? Wildlife. My accomplices. I feed victims to the bears and coyotes and other wildlife that lives in the woods behind my kill shack. Thus, why I am kind to animals. They help me in so many ways. My kill shack appears quaint on the outside. Remote. Surrounded by nature. No wifi. Solar generated power. Well water. On the inside? I think my cabin appears to be something straight out of a horror movie like The Evil Dead. So many souls haunt those walls. But I am impervious to ghosts.
The smell of death, I find intoxicating. The splatter of blood on the walls and floors reminds me of each kill. Sometimes, I lay on the floor masturbating on the blood-soaked floor remembering a particular kill. Maybe, if you prove yourself worthy, I can take you to my kill shack. Would you like to see where I do my best work? Would you enjoy being my accomplice phone sex partner? Or perhaps, you would prefer to die in my kill shack?
Evil phone sex anyone? I am always in the mood to fuck something up. More like fuck someone up. My favorite month will soon be here. October does not seem too far away to me now. Every October, I engage in a Satanic purging ritual. However, the funny thing is I do not consider myself a Satanist. Guys ask me all the time if I believe in the devil. I do not believe in heaven or hell. And if you believe in God and that bullshit thing you would believe in his counterpart.
But if you do not believe in God or heaven, how can you believe in Satan? Makes no sense to me. But then I am a logical bitch. However, I do believe in evil. I am evil. Perhaps even a sadist. I am not the kind of woman who needs other human beings. So, I do not have a wolf pack. Nor do I have a bestie or a boyfriend. What I do have though is “a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people…” Okay, that’s a Liam Neeson quote. But I am a nightmare to all people.
I’m a snuff porn queen. And since my favorite month is October, I will once again partake in 30 days of killing. However, Killtober might be off to an early start. I killed a bitch on accident last night. Not really by accident. It was not like I tripped, and my knife landed in her heart. The bitch annoyed me, and my knife stabbed her in the throat. Sort of accidentally on purpose. Although I am not ashamed of it. She ran a red light, almost ran into me and then called me a cunt.
I so wished you had been in the car with me. No doubt she could have been your ass rape porn star before I slit her throat. It was dark and the road appeared desolate. She seemed drunk as fuck, and any self-entitled cunt who drives drunk, almost kills me then calls me names, deserves to die, right? I did not even think about it. My arm had a mind of its own. And so did my knife. I left the cunt bleeding out in the desolate road. Her car was still running too. Not even October yet, and I am doing good deeds already. Who’s ready to hunt and kill with me?
Castration phone sex anyone? I am a ball remover specialist. Although I enjoy talking to self-aware loser who enjoy extreme cock and ball torture, the real fun for me is doing it for real. Some guys pay me to remove their nuts and others just deserve it. So, they get a free castration. I use a variety of things too. My knife collection aids in ball removal. So do elastrator bands.
The other night, I met a man with an extreme kink for ball busting at a Goth bar. He offered me insane money to abuse his worthless testicles. And I took every penny. I consider it a Loser Tax. I need money to even breath the same air as a fucking loser. And trust me, this man is the poster brat of losers. Who uses an elastrator band on himself?
When we got to his place, I discovered that he started the torture sex without me. He showed me his swollen nut sack. I mean it resembled a balloon more than nuts. However, I did enjoy the rest of our time together. Although he started the castration process, he needed me to finish the job. And that is something I take great pleasure in doing. I kicked him in the balls many times. My high heels have popped a nut or 10 before.
When he fell to the ground after about the 5th swift kick to the groin, I trampled his balls and cock. I guess you could say that I did a little jig on his junk. I put on some Slayer and went to town on his worthless balloon nut sack and tiny pecker.And I made his junk bleed. But this mother fucker loved it.
However, he loved it less when I cut off his testicles. His nuts barely bled where I severed them because the elastrator band aided in the blood supply being halted. I still cauterized the wound. His balls landed on the floor with a thud because the band made them balloon up. Once they detached from his body, I did a dance on them. With Slayer blaring in the background, I trampled his severed testicles with glee.
He passed out from the pain. That happens often. Even the most extreme taboo phone sex callers have their limits. It’s my job to push those limits beyond anything you can imagine.
Holidays bring out the snuff phone sex lovers. However, I do not need a holiday as an excuse to kill. For me, every day feels like a holiday. And everyday I struggle with my urge to kill. I am a population control specialist. Unlike a serial killer, I am not compelled to kill out of need. I’m not mentally ill. I want to kill. I am a sadist.
This weekend brings out all the cute perky teenagers for the last pool days of the year. At least in the non-sunny all the time states. And I found myself around to celebrate with three days of killing. However, today, I am waiting for you to help me kill my victim. My last bikini clad teenager needs an accomplice to kill her. And I already did the hard work. I kidnapped her Saturday and kept her alive in my kill shack.
If you experience rape phone sex fantasies for young teen sluts, there is a cute one in a cage in my kill shack just waiting for a monster cock to shred her virgin holes. I checked out her hymen with a flashlight and a speculum and I found a virgin. Imagine that. Fresh, untouched meat. How rare that must be nowadays. I can smell this cunt’s fear waffling all through my kill shack too. That just intoxicates me. If I cannot find a suitable accomplice, I will kill her myself. But I find it more fun with a partner.
My murderous neighbor went out of town, or I would have called him. He enjoys teen rape porn too. I kidnapped a trio of young bitches, but I killed the other two already. And boy did they put up a fight. Feisty bitches. But cock teases nonetheless who deserved to die. Not sure why I am waiting for an accomplice for the final girl. I am more than capable of killing a whore on my own. Oh, I know why. Because I love watching a whore get force fucked before I end her life.
Knife play phone sex excites me. A knife proves more versatile than any other weapon in my opinion. I can kill a million different ways with a knife. However, my preferred use of a knife involves chopping off your balls. Or someone’s balls. Sometimes, I enjoy chopping off the entire kit and kaboodle. If I deem your balls worthless, your dick is worthless too. Fact.
Over the weekend, I traveled to a different city for some mayhem. I enjoy castrating losers all over the United States. And trust me, small dick wonders exist everywhere. However, the only problem when I travel is that I do not have my castration chair. I make do though. I can rig any hotel or dining room chair into a castration torture sex chair.
Most men never see it coming. That’s because I am a good actress. I make tools and losers think I seriously want to fuck them. I own battery operated boyfriends for that. I’m not a “people” person and that includes relationships. Occasionally, I might fuck some accomplice who proves equally as sick as me, but for the most part I am a loner.
This dickless wonder tried to pick me up at a bar in the town I visited. He bragged about a 5-inch dick. How can anyone brag about a 5-inch dick? However, Ed did. So, I invited him back to my hotel to fuck. However, the joke was on him because I had no intention of fucking him. All I planned to do was take his junk. That way, good old Ed couldn’t fuck any other woman with standards again. Although Ed did not sign up for castration phone sex, he got it. And he got it for free.
I drugged him without his knowledge. He sat in my chair willingly right before he passed out from my magic cocktail. Once I had him strapped in, I found it easy to chop his nuts and dick off. Sure, he bled everywhere. However, I did not care. Not my house. He passed out from blood loss because I did not immediately cauterize the wound. Eventually, I did though. I wanted him to suffer a bit because he was a jerk.
I got a clean cut on both his dick and balls with one of my knives. Although I cauterized his wound, I left him passed out in that hotel room. As an added touch, I put his severed cock in his hand and his severed balls in his mouth. He will wake up like one of those black market organ victims. Maybe now he will never be able to fuck some poor woman again.
Snuff sex anyone? Do you know what that means? For me, it means if I fuck you, I kill you afterwards. Or it could mean we kill some bitch together. Or it could even mean I just kill you without fucking you because I find you that annoying. Most people annoy the fuck out of me. And it they do not annoy the fuck out of me, they often do soon enough.
Very few people last in my world long. However, I think I may have found an exception to the rule. I have a neighbor who a few months ago I helped out of a jam when he accidentally killed his Tinder date. Why he came to me for help, I still have no clue. I could have called the cops on him. But then I guess I do not look cop friendly or anyone friendly, LOL.
Although sadistic phone sex pays my bills on paper, I have a dark underground world that makes me my real money. However, my neighbor did not know that. He got lucky. Perhaps, I did too because now we are like Bonnie and Clyde without the bank robbing. That accidental killing awakened a dark side he had no clue he had. And I have nurtured that dark side ever since. My first kill was an impulse kill. I was a schoolgirl and my grandpa covered up my mess. But same thing. An accidental murder awakened my dark side too.
I enjoy helping people find their inner killer. Perhaps, we all have one, but an accident happens, or we just meet the right person who brings out our homicidal impulses. Either way, I can help you like I helped my neighbor. Not saying we will become the best of friends or anything because chances are you will annoy me, and I will have to show you my killer phone sex side. But until then, I can help nurture the killer in you too.
Castration phone sex hurts. Especially, if you are trying it at home. You might be surprised how many men attempt to cut off their own balls and fail. Personally, I do not think it is something to attempt alone. Often, men hire me for such things. Men hire me to do all sorts of things like kidnap brats, torture enemies, kill exes and castrate losers. However, castrating losers tops the list of my favorite hobbies.
When Jim found my ad on the dark net, he was in bad shape. He managed to sever one testicle. However, he needed my help to finish his botched job. Men get drunk and begin to commiserate with themselves about their useless dicks and balls. Maybe their dicks lack length and girth. Or perhaps, they just suffer from chronic limp dick syndrome. Whatever the reason, I do not care. I love to castrate men. Because torture sex arouse me.
I arrived at Jim’s place and found one of his nuts hanging on by a thread of flesh. He just could not bring himself to finish the job. So, I strapped him to a chair with a couple leather belts. Then I ripped that nut off with my bare hand. Sure, he screamed in pain, but that was nothing compared to what I did next. Jim did not piss me off in any way. This castration was for profit not pleasure. Although any castration, I find it pleasurable, and the man finds painful.
I sawed off his remaining nut and quickly cauterized the wounds. Because his one nut had been severed the night before, it did not get cauterized quickly. So, his scars will be nasty and uneven. But at least his balls match now, LOL. Jim felt grateful that I did this for him. According to him, he’s shooting blanks and rarely gets hard. Now, he will never get hard again. To test things out, after he stopped bleeding, I fucked his ass. I love to peg a loser. I am a taboo phone sex bitch.
Want your nuts gone too? Not a problem for me. I am a castration junkie. I take men’s nuts for pleasure and profit.