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I enjoy watching snuff movies with men. Especially men who I would like to make a snuff flick with. And I’m not necessarily talking about as my accomplice. I like to watch the expression on men’s faces as they watch extreme cock and ball torture in an underground film. Because when they react strongly to such a film, I know it’s going to be enjoyable to inflict that sort of pain on them.
I dupe a lot of men into thinking I want to fuck them. But that’s easy to do. You can be a Goth chick or a big, beautiful woman, men don’t care. They’ll put their dick inside anything for the most part. I don’t need men. Men like to think that women depend on their cocks.
But we do not need men. If we want to birth brats, we can go to some sperm bank for that. If we want an orgasm, they make a variety of sex toys geared for women’s sexual pleasure. And a lot of those battery operated boyfriends bring women a lot more pleasure than a breathing man.
So, any time a man treats me like I should be grateful that he’s giving me any attention, I decide that man needs my brand of extreme cock and ball torture sex. Alex picked me up at a bar. He seemed different from most predators. He did not attempt to spike my drink with a roofie or anything. But I still found him annoying. And not simply because he walked and talked. The shit he spewed out of his mouth made me think that he believes the world needs more “trad wives.” A Goth bar is the wrong venue to spew that caveman shit.
I will never be somebody’s wife. And if I ever get married, I would never be a traditional wife who stays at home, makes bread from scratch and makes arts and crafts with the little ones while I homeschool them. I am not Laura fucking Ingels on the Prairie.
This man, I needed to torture for shits and giggles. And to let him know women do not exist to take care of him. So, once we were at my place, I spiked his drink. I put on some torture porn, and I watched as he looked horrified at what he saw. And then I whispered in his ear that’s just a little taste of what’s to come later, darling.
I think he shit himself right then. That’s an exaggeration. However, he did piss his pants. But I planned on ripping them off him anyway, so I could mutilate his junk. I started with a castration band around his worthless balls. And then I carved up his dick with my name on every side. He let out blood cuddling screams, which makes my pussy wet. I get off on fear and pain. Folks call me a wicked butcher for a reason.
For hours, I mutilated Alex‘s junk. And eventually, I chopped his balls off killing his chances of ever marrying or procreating. He’s entitled to his thoughts and opinions on where women belong. But he must face the backlash and the consequences of such antiquated beliefs. And one of the consequences of such archaic thinking is castration phone sex. Repeat after me men. Women do not exist to be your caretaker and your fuck dolls. We no longer live in a caveman society. So, wake up and get with the program and maybe I’ll let you keep your balls.
Mutilation phone sex turns a sick bitch on. And I’m serious. I love to mutilate the human body. And I do it both while the body still breathes and postmortem too. I like to inflict maximum pain. It’s just sort of sexy. And I especially enjoy sexually mutilating individuals. I use it as a form of revenge and karma. If a male predator tries to take advantage of me or somebody that I consider a friend, I’m going to destroy their junk and I’m going to make it hurt.
And sometimes men pay me to mutilate their junk. David paid me for what I would consider extreme cock and ball torture. I meet pain sluts all the time. And most of them chase their next high. They just need a sick bitch like me to torture their cocks and balls to find their pain threshold.
And I could do that shit all day and all night. So, I showed up at his place with my cock and ball torture sex kit. It included razor blades, a box cutter, castration bands, pliers, and a hammer and a wrench too.
Plus, I brought a ton of knives. And some of my favorites too. I tied him down even though he told me it was not necessary. It’s always necessary to restrain your victim. They often experience a change of heart, or they try to fight you
Either way I consider it a smart move to restrain my victim. Dave seemed willing until the pain felt too extreme for him. They always think they can handle it, but they never can. Pussies nothing but pussies in this world.
I put the castration band on him primarily just to stop the spray of blood from going everywhere. Although I never mind blood splatter most men don’t want to clean blood off their walls or their ceilings.
This guy had his own little torture table set up with castration bands, knives, a hammer, and even a sickle too. Now that looked interesting. I have one at home, but it’s rather large. I wanted to play with it. So, I used it to remove his left testicle, and he let out a bloodcurdling screen that sounded deafening. Oops, I told him as I removed a ball.
I used a knife to skin it. I removed his other testicle using a razor blade. Now that made a mess. Once I removed his ball, I put it in this vice clamp and squeezed it flat. Blood and sinew splattered our faces. But I looked at him and reminded him that he paid me for this extreme pain and torture.
I saw no way out for him. I told him I could throw in death if he wanted. But he told me he did not want to die. He just wanted to wish he was dead and there’s a difference. I told him that it sounded like semantics. But I let him live. However, he will live without balls. And I carved my name into his dick and on his chest as a constant reminder to be careful of what you wish for.
But I am unforgettable. Once a sadistic phone sex bitch mutilates your junk, you never forget her. So let me ask you. If you paid me to mutilate your cock and balls would you forget me?
Cannibalism phone sex dinners we should savor. Last week I kidnapped a drunk coed I intended to kill because I found her obnoxious. But I had a change of heart. Oh, I still killed her. Just not that night. She became my Thanksgiving meal. And she will feed me through the winter months.
Girl meat tastes succulent. Very rich like duck meat or venison. But you must prepare it correctly. And a lot of time goes into the preparation. You can cook a girl a few ways. But I prefer slow roasting over an open flame. I live remotely, but I do have neighbors within a mile on every side. And girl meat as you cook creates a pungent smell. And it can carry. So, I do my best to mask that smell with pineapple and a buttery herb sauce. But burning hair smells the strongest. So, before I cook a girl, I shave her head.
Now some people who enjoy a fine dining experience like me kill their meal before they cook it. Not me. Sure, it feels like torture sex to burn over an open flame, but it makes the meat taste better and I don’t necessarily care that some drunk bitch suffers for a couple minutes. It took me a week to soften her skin with butter baths. Some people might remove the organ meat before cooking, but I like to cook it inside the body. Most of the organ meat survives the 22 hour slow roasting procedure. And it tastes just as succulent as the flesh.
Once my meat is properly cooked, I eat it. But obviously I’m one person and my meat could feed an army. So, I carve up that meat after my meal. And that’s rather laborious. It takes all day. Sometimes even longer than it takes to prepare the meat, but I’m patient.
I have roughly 200 different containers to put her remaining flesh in and a few specifically for organ meat. And a big freezer in the garage to store it. I save some of the bones with meat and cartilage still on it for my dogs. And I feed the rest to the wildlife outback. Why should I be the only one who enjoys a good Thanksgiving meal.
I will admit, I outdid myself this year, and I made the smart decision keeping this girl as my Thanksgiving meal. She turned out perfectly. Flesh literally dripping off the bones as I sunk my teeth into a piece of white meat. My dogs loved the smell apparently. They gathered around me, so I shared some with them. And since I cooked the girl meat outside, I had quite the gathering of wildlife waiting for the scraps too.
It’s a sadistic phone sex bitch Thanksgiving. And I have plenty of girl meat left over. Some of it still feels warm. Would you like to break bread with me on this very special day with this very special meal?
I become excited for bloody phone sex near holidays. Thankful that the world is full of bitches and assholes who I can massacre. You would think people might be nicer to each other around the holidays, but I find it to be the opposite. The asshole in people comes out. And personally, I just wait for folks to show their true colors. Watching and waiting patiently for my turn to seize the opportunity to kill someone.
Instead of hunting for intruders in my local Goth bars, I branch out. No one hassles me in a Goth bar. However, their true colors show when they see a Goth girl in a yuppie bar or a college bar. And I like to think that it helps me thin the herd. So, I went to this dance club. Because I knew every douche bag in town would be there. Let me tell you the douche bag quota appeared high. But so did the bitch quota. I can enjoy snuff sex with a bitch too. Just not a Goth bitch.
Honestly, I’m surprised men don’t kill more bitches. Perhaps they do not know the right accomplice yet. That would be me. Because I know how to get away with murder. I can have my cake and eat it too. Did I mention I like to play with my food. I picked up this bitch at the bar waiting until she looked drunk enough so I could act like her Uber. Dumb cunt: you cannot trust a woman like me. I saw this woman in the crowded bar, milking men, teasing them and even humiliating the ones who would not buy her a drink.
Bitches like that give women a bad name. So, I took her to my dungeon. I had immediate plans to just eviscerate the bitch. Make it a bloody massacre and prolong her torture. But I decided to save her for my Thanksgiving meal. She appears to have just enough skin on her. And a little extra meat on those bones makes a meal taste more succulent. I’ve been soaking her in butter to soften her skin. Dosing her with Xanax to get the fight out of her. She’s a noisy bitch.
But I’m going to enjoy a cannibalism phone sex Thanksgiving feast. I’m going to feast on bitch meat. Either way she still will die. But at least now her death won’t be in vain. She’ll know she fed me for the winter months. She’s not fat, but she’s pleasantly plump. She will provide me with I guess about 50 meals.
Once I soften that skin, I’m plan to slow roast her over an open flame. I will have to start cooking her Wednesday though. If you cook a bitch too fast, it dries her skin out. And I like my meals tasting juicy. Succulent. With the flesh just falling off the bones. Her story is not finished yet. I’ll let you know more once I cook the bitch. Perhaps you want to join me on Thanksgiving meal.
Everybody has killer phone sex fantasies. But not me when I fantasize about killing someone, I make it happen the following week or even that night. Although I am hardly a sociable person, I do frequent Goth bars. But I go there more as vigilante and to have a few drinks. You would be amazed at how many men try to prey on Goth chicks. Dudes are wrong if they think Goth girls appear more vulnerable.
We all have a healthy dose of stranger danger in our own bars. And we can tell the folks who don’t belong. Sure a few women stumble in drunk, not realizing what kind of bar they just entered. But mostly it’s men coming in thinking they can pick up a Goth chick when they fail at all the other bars. Goth teen phone sex babes don’t want incels either. And let me tell you the number of incel creeps appears to increase yearly. So, I remain hypervigilant nowadays. Perhaps you could say I have Spidey senses.
I went to my local Goth bar last night for a strong cocktail. I chatted with the bartender because she and I have a mutual respect. She knows I keep her bar safe. Although she might not know all the illegal things I have done, she knows about all the illegal things I’ve done in her bar.
But because I have the best interests of her community and her bar on my mind, she looks the other way. And she helps me trap these incel types. She told me about this man dressed sort of steam punkish posing as one of us. He looked like a poser. And she caught him spiking women’s drinks.
So, I laid a honey trap for him, and the bartender helped me switch drinks once he spiked mine. Like me, she seems to have eyes in the back of her head. The look on his face when he realized he drank the spiked drink was worth its weight and gold.
I took him out the back door and gave him a back alley castration phone sex experience. Normally, I would take him home or to my kill shack and torture him for hours. But he brought friends. And I needed to take care of all of them too. They invaded my space. Preyed on my community. But they never saw me coming. No one ever does.
I drank for free last night. The bartender wanted to reward me for my community service and taking out the trash. I castrated five infiltrators posing as us so they could prey on who they perceived as vulnerable women. And they lost their balls for it. I left them in the alley and tossed their balls in the dumpster. If they want their balls back, they can retrieve them. But I did not leave them in the best shape to dive into a dumpster, LOL. I neutered those dogs. And they should feel lucky I did not kill them.
I love watching snuff movies. But often I find myself angry because I can tell they’re fake. I think they provide a little Easter egg suggesting the movie is fake to keep the feds away. No Easter eggs when I make a snuff flick. But the films I make never get mass-produced because I keep them for my viewing pleasure only. Or perhaps like this weekend for somebody else’s pleasure.
Recently, I met a young girl who reminds me of me at that age. She seems dark and demented already. But she requires a little guidance because she lacks impulse control. I’m the perfect teacher for young sadistic bitches like her. My grandpa served as my mentor. And he kept me out of prison. His teachings keep me out of prison still. So now, I pass my knowledge along. I want to help young girls with potential.
She came to me for guidance. Asked me how she could take care of her bully. And I know a thing or two about that. My first victim, the murder my grandpa covered up, was my one and only impulse kill. I stabbed my bully. The girl who made my life hell remains a missing person’s case to this day. No one ever found her body. However, that’s because grandpa put her into the wood chipper like 20 some years ago.
So, I told her we should make a snuff porn with him and torture him. I took the risk for her and lured the boy away. And it seemed like a cakewalk. Once I got into my dungeon, I tied him to a table. I have an old morgue slab I use as a torture table. Stainless steel wipes away all the blood easily. When this boy saw her, he pissed himself in fear. And that told me he knew he done her wrong. So, I told her he deserved death and to not feel any remorse for her actions. I handed her a knife, and she carved up his dick and his balls without hesitation. She savored every cut.
Perhaps you could say, I possess an eye for evil talent. And she did not really need my guidance. But she needed my help bringing him to my dungeon and disposing of his body properly. I made sure to protect her. In a way I guess you could say I served as her accomplice phone sex partner. I knew she had potential. This teen girl might out kill me. She has a taste for torture now. And I’m only going to help her with that thirst with more kills.
Snuff phone sex never bore me. And I think that’s because I enjoy being a sick bitch. The kind of bitch you don’t want to fuck over. And the kind of bitch you never try to dominate either. I make it very clear in my blocks in my profile that I’m not the kind of woman who Does traditional fuck calls. In fact, I almost never fuck a caller. My sexual gratification comes from torture and murder.
If I am castrating, you or snuffing you, you will never have a chance to fuck me. But then, even when I’m just your accomplice, you don’t have much of a prayer for that either. But let’s be clear here you serve only one of two roles with me. My victim or my accomplice. Although I have no problem with you, beating your worthless meat don’t expect me to give you head or let you anywhere near my pussy. Unless of course, I’m smothering you to death you see my pussy as a suffocation device.
Yet every damn day I need to kill my accomplice because he does not listen to my rules. Why is it that man have such an inability to retain information. Do they think this is just an act and that I don’t really mean it when I explain the rules of accomplice phone sex to them. Personally, I think men just think with their dicks, which is another argument for why they shouldn’t have them. I figure if you don’t listen to what I have to say you’re not gonna listen to any woman. So I might as well put you out of our misery early on.
Richard found out that I meant business recently. He didn’t read the fine print of our agreement even though I verbally went over it on the phone with him. When we met, he told me the girl he wanted assistance and kidnapping and torturing. Seems like a simple gig. And it would’ve been a simple gig if Richard had not let his hormones get in the way. Suddenly, he decided he didn’t want to pay me the money and he wanted to fuck me instead. And when I told him absolutely not if he was the last man on earth, he tried to force himself on me. When were these idiots ever learn.
Once his cock made an appearance, so did the knife that I keep strapped to my inner thigh. Without missing a beat, I sliced his cock off with such force. It flew across the room and landed and the dog bowl. I gave my hound from hell a nice treat. Sure I could’ve taken his balls to the complete castration phone sex, but he’ll never fuck so I didn’t really see the purpose of taking his balls too. The man no longer has cock. And they’re not gonna find this dick in a field somewhere to reattach. My dog shit his cock out this morning.
Has rich late curled up in a ball in his own blood and vomit. I kicked him a few times to make it hurt even more. Then I spit on him. And I reminded him this was all his doing. I gave him clear cut rules for a partnership and he chose to One neglect those rules and two try to not pay me. Also he’s lucky he’s still breathing. And trust me, I thought about killing him because I’ve certainly killed men for less. But when it comes to castration and cock mutilation, I like them to live with the constant reminder That their stupidity has long lasting consequences.
So tell me, loser. Will you follow my instructions and agree to my rules while you lose your cock and maybe your balls too?
Bloody phone sex October is nearing its end. And that makes me sad. But I can continue my murderous spree anytime. It doesn’t need to be only in the month of October. I kill and torture any day of the year. However, in October, I just kill more. Plus, I kill more randomly. By that I mean, opportunity, not necessarily revenge or to make a statement.
Although I do prefer to kill with a purpose, I have been known to kill somebody out of convenience. And last night, the person who enraged me suddenly disappeared in the bar. And I looked for her. She must’ve sneaked out the back. Perhaps she knew I intended her harm. This little twat spilled a drink on me and made some snide comment. And I even acted on my best behavior, but the little bitch still had an attitude. She insisted I buy her another drink since she spilled her drink on me while walking through a crowded bar texting. Not my fault.
I decided she deserved a snuff sex death. However, when I lost her in the crowd, I took all my rage out on another girl. A cute coed. But now a dead coed. I don’t often partake in rage kills. By that I mean, I rarely kill somebody as a surrogate for the person I want to kill. But this one bitch filled me with so much rage that I selected a girl who looked like her. I drugged this girl. And when the drugs kicked in, I told her I saw somebody roofie her drink. So, I took her home to keep her safe. But no one feels safe with me.
Once we entered my home, I started stabbing her and gutting her like a pig. She seemed half out of it from the drugs, so she did not fight me much. I made a bloody mess. But that does seem fitting for bloody October. She took a while to die. Even with her intestines on the floor and blood spurting everywhere, she continued to breathe. And I know I could’ve slit her throat and put her out of her misery because that’s a quick death. But it aroused me watching her fight. Although we both knew she could not stuff her insides back into her stomach and live, she still tried.
And then she took her last breath. I must’ve stabbed her over 100 times. But no doubt the wound that killed her resulted when I stabbed her belly button and sliced her up to her sternum. That’s when her entrails fell out of her body. I made a great snuff porn, but sadly, I never caught it on film. That’s because I did not plan this kill. But the death still felt satisfying. Because I pictured this surrogate dead girl as the bitch from the bar who spilled a drink on me.
I made lemonade from lemons last night. Perhaps I will see the girl I really wanted to kill again sometime. But next time I won’t need a surrogate because I’m going to kill that fucking cunt. But until I find her, perhaps you and I can carve up some bitch together. Like I said, I don’t care if it’s October or July, I can murder anytime.
Knife play phone sex earns me a decent income. You might be surprised at how many men fantasize about me either castrating them or killing them with a big knife. And sometimes men even hire me to torture them. I meet them on the dark net, and they pay me to kill them. Although men like that appear rare. More men pay for torture than snuff. I take their money either way. No returns. No regrets.
On Wednesday of last week, a man paid me to castrate him. Not kill him. Just take his balls to stop his urges for little girls. I mean, if he ever got arrested the court might order a chemical castration anyway. His addiction, according to him, becomes stronger every day and it’s becoming harder to deny his cock what it really wants. Can you relate to that? And I get it. Those little girls look hotter every day. I see schoolgirls who look like they might already be coeds. I see most of those little tramps as cock teasers anyway.
If you pay me for cock and ball torture sex, I plan to give it to you. Take your money and leave you with no testicles bleeding in your bedroom or wherever we do the castration. Hank wanted castrated in this seedy little no tell motel. I’ve done far worse things in that motel than castrate a man. So, I met Hank in room 207. I brought my knives and everything I would need to seal up the wound once I removed his balls. And I even brought a ball gag to stifle his screams. Not even the biggest pain slut can handle castration without a scream.
I used a castration band first. That helps reduce the amount of blood. And he did not want to die. He just didn’t want to act on his urges for a tiny little tot. Not the first time I’ve removed a man’s junk because of his evil urges. At least a man who hires me for such things I consider self-aware.
Although the castration band helped stop the flow of blood, when I chopped his nut sack off, it still made a mess. But looking at those sheets in that no tell motel, I think worse things stained them than his blood. What a disgusting place. But it’s a place where you can literally get away with murder because nobody cares.
He got the castration phone sex he desired. But he bled a lot more than I expected. Lucky for him I brought a soldering pin to stop the flow of blood. However, it burned his pubic hair, creating an awful smell. But again, not the worst smell in that place.
I left him there. Not to die. But to rest because castration takes a lot out of you. No doubt he will feel sore for a couple months, but his evil urges will dissipate. He can think about doing bad things to little girls, but I neutered him, so he’ll never be able to act on those urges again. What about you? Do you feel like losing your balls today?
I enjoy mutilation phone sex. But that’s because I’m a sick bitch. Torture only arouses me. Torture can take a lot of different forms with me. Usually, I mutilate a man’s junk. Sever his balls and carve up his dick. But sometimes I torture a little bitch too. I consider myself pro woman. Not that I like all women or even most women. Sometimes men try to force fuck Goth women, and I never stand for that.
But last night, I had to mutilate a fucking whore. And she deserved it. I didn’t even plan on torturing or killing anybody last night even though it’s October and I do kill and mutilate a lot more people for shits and giggles.
Apparently, I grabbed the last almond milk off the shelf at the grocery store. This woman reached into my cart, grabbed it and called me a stupid bitch. As much as I wanted to react and stab her right there in the Kroger aisle, I like my freedom.
I’m smart, scrappy and savvy. So, I did what I do best. I stalked the bitch. Followed her home hoping she lived alone. And she did not appear to have a family. So, I waited until all the lights went out. And I broke into her house and tortured her for hours. She deserved torture sex, female or not. Self-entitled bitches who do something like that to me don’t get away with it. I just let her think she got away with it. Who acts like such a royal cunt over fucking almond milk.
She woke up as I hovered over her with a big knife. She started to scream and I punched her. Oops. I broke her nose. A broken nose, however, would be the least of her worries. She tried to fight me, but I strapped her down tighter to her bed. Used my knife to strip off her nightgown, exposing her naked body.
Too bad she had a banging body. But what a bitch. I cut off her tits. Stabbed her cunt. Sliced her nose open. I even stabbed her in one of her eyes. It’s taken me a while to learn that technique. It can be hard to stab just right so you don’t kill them instantly.
I made the bitch suffer for hours. But I knew the sun would come up soon, so I had to finish her off. I stabbed her in the cunt and pushed upward so that the knife would come through her belly button. And I pulled the knife out and a bunch of her insides spilled onto the bed.
But the real mess came when I just stabbed her right in the hole that I created in her belly button. And then I just went all the way to her sternum like I was cutting a fish. I gave her the snuff sex death she deserved. And I used a lot of overkill. If she acted like that with me a total stranger, I imagine there’s a long line of people who wanted this cunt dead.
The overkill makes it look personal. And it seemed personal to me. There’s no need for such awful public behavior. But it did feel good to kill and mutilate that cunt. The world doesn’t need any more assholes and bitches.