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If you have murder phone sex fantasies you are in the right place. Well, you are in the right place if you want an accomplice. However, I will kill or castrate you if you attempt to make me your victim or your girlfriend. I am a sadistic woman. Not the typical woman you encounter on phone sex lines. I have zero interest in giving you the GFE experience. Nor do I have any interest in men attempting to tame or break me.
Yet no matter how clear I am that I am in charge and that I am not a GFE provider, men either try to snuff me or make me their girlfriend. So, either that want killed or castrated but are too weak to ask for it. Or they are just plain stupid. But either way, I eat guys like that for breakfast and shit them out the next day. And this world seems full of self-entitled men who think they know what I need and want.
I need my space. And I want castration phone sex trophies. I can make America great again for women. How? Castration ensures two things that can truly improve America. One, castration ensures that a tool cannot procreate and make itty bitty tools. And it ensures that they will never try whatever bullshit they tried with me on another woman.
Perhaps, I am a bit of a collector and hunter too. In my dungeon, I have a wall dedicated to jars of balls and dicks. And all impeccably labeled with the loser’s name, last known address and date of castration. Inside the jar, you will find the loser’s balls and perhaps cock too. Some men pissed me off so much, I took all their junk. However, cock and ball torture sex is a guarantee with me if you call me to be your accomplice and try to make me your victim or lover instead. Don’t say I did not warn you.
Knife play phone sex because I can. As a dominant Goth babe, I always carry a knife or two or four with me. You never know when you may need to defend yourself, or someone else. And if you are me, you never know when you may need to kill or castrate some annoying loser. This town seems full of them. Perhaps, the world is just overflowing with dumb fucks. And I do my best to kill all the dumb fucks I encounter.
I almost killed a dumb fuck last night. He came into a Goth bar and started telling us we would all burn in hell because we have Satan in our hearts. This dumb ass thinks Goth babes denounce God because we sport tats and piercings and dress in black. Narrow minded loser. I renounce everything. Including some dick cheese telling me I am going to hell. So, I acted like I needed saving so he would take me somewhere to preach the gospel of some old dead white guy to me.
Blasphemy sex can be hot, but I did not fuck him. I don’t fuck losers. However, I did cut his tongue out with one of my knives to shut him the fuck up. This loser appeared to be one of those Westboro Baptist church followers who thinks most of us are going to hell. I decided to send him to hell first. Once I cut out his tongue and fed it to a coyote, I cut off his balls too. Don’t want him procreating and raising little assholes.
Although I should have sliced him up in little pieces, I let him live. Only because he cannot spew his ignorance anymore nor can he produce any more evil spawn. He can be an example to his brethren of what happens when you spew your shit to the wrong bitch. Can I just tell you how much I wanted to kill this loser? He may still end up in one of my snuff porn videos. But for now, he will be a dickless mute wonder.
I use torture sex to control my slaves. However, James did not know that. He thought we met at a bar and had a connection. But I don’t form love connections. Men are my cunt slaves. They serve me. Not the other way around. Although James appeared eager to please, I think he wanted a more reciprocal relationship. Maybe even a boring vanilla one. But I had other plans for him.
I let him follow me home. But only I knew he would never leave. I made him a strong cocktail and slipped into something sexier. He checked out my Gothic home. Although, he would need to wait to see my dungeon. My sex slaves need to work for me when ever I want. However, James seemed to not understand my terminology. I did not say boyfriend. I said slave. Slaves do not have any freedom. As he worshiped my cunt, he talked about work and family. And I laughed. He will never leave my castle. Never.
But James needed more convincing. So, I took him down to my dungeon. That is where I break my slaves. And I use any means necessary. If he would not conform to my desires, I’d make him a snuff porn star instead of a sex slave. James thought this was some sort of game. But I do not play games. Instead, I break men and shape them into loyal sex slaves and cunt worshipers. I strung him upside down as my first order of business. As I spun him around, he got a head rush.
I stood on a stool and ordered my slave to eat my pussy and ass. Even strung upside down, he still thought this was a game and he would go to work in the morning. I broke out the heavy artillery. Whips, chains, restraints, a strapon and a cattle prod. For hours, I beat him. Shocked him too.
His body looked like I dragged him along a gravel road tied to the back of my truck. But he still did not understand the assignment. So, I put a castration band around his nuts. I castrate all my sex slaves. Their sexual pleasure does not matter. They exist to service me. And that is the only thing they will do under my control.
But I use the castration band to help reduce the testosterone in my slaves. Makes them less squirrely and more manageable. Although James did not understand my use of the castration band, he soon realized his fate as a eunuch slave. As his balls turned blue and eventually black from the lack of circulation, he knew castration phone sex would be inevitable.
Some sex slaves submit immediately to me and dedicate their lives too me. Others require lots of pain first. Eventually James gave in. Realized he would spend the rest of his life living in a dog cage and only coming out when I need my cunt or ass serviced. I did not need to cut off his balls, but he left me no choice. Some great cunt slaves are born. However, others, like James, I must make.
I put the bloody in bloody phone sex. Personally, I detest killing if I cannot make a mess. Some folks might consider me a psychopath, but I see myself as an artist. I paint the walls and the floors with my victim. Part of it is me just being dramatic. But most of it I view as creative license with the human body.
This guy Michael hired me to kill him. I know, who would hire someone to kill them when they could swallow some pills or something. But Michael got himself in hot water with a jailbait girl. And the truth would come out sooner or later. Not only did he not want to go to prison, but he also did not want to saddle his family with the embarrassment and financial burden that comes with court and prison.
He acted kind of noble in a way. Hire me for killer phone sex, and his family gets his life insurance because he got murdered. And no legal proceedings to drag them through the mud. But I knew that I could not dispose of his body. I had to kill him and leave the body to be found so the life insurance would pay off. And I needed to make the murder look like a man did it and while his wife had an alibi. The police always look at the spouse when someone dies from murder.
But I am an excellent killer. And I went all out on this kill. As much as I wanted to castrate him for shits and giggles, I refrained. Sexual mutilation of the cock screams female culprit. So, I bludgeoned him to death with a baseball bat. His brain matter sprayed me and the walls. I did this in a no tell motel. But I drugged him first so he would not feel his skull crushing. The motel will be scrubbing his bone and brain matter off the stucco walls for ions.
After I was done, it looked like over kill. And I staged it to look like a robbery. The drugs I used will show up in his system, but the cops will think someone drugged him at one of the bars he stopped at first. I even paid a guy to rent the room under an alias. This is not a fancy place with cameras and the guy I paid appeared so strung out he won’t remember me or what he did for me.
Too bad I couldn’t take pictures of the crime scene. One of my best snuff sex encounters yet. And I won’t get credit for it either. But I did my job, took his money and his family will be better off. Win win all around.
Do you have rape phone sex fantasies? Not for me, I mean. Because if you did, I would castrate you, maybe even cut your dick off too, if you did. No one forces me to do anything. When it comes to rape fantasies, I am only your accomplice. I helped Darren shove his mediocre dick inside a girl who scorned his advances. Tiny dick men appear to have the most fragile egos.
Of course, he paid me. I never help a man out of the goodness of my cold little heart. However, sometimes I feel bad for the girl. She just protects her own self interests when she turns a loser down. I do my due diligence and research both my client and his victim. Way out of my client’s league. Like a different stratosphere. Cannot blame her for saying no. And you got to applaud his gumption for even asking her out.
I brought Cate to my cabin in the woods, also known as my snuff sex shack. My cabin in the woods has seen more violence than all the Evil Dead cabins combined. If you know, you know. Darren did not hire me for snuff though. If he did, I would have charged him triple his price. But after he fucked her, he wanted to fuck me. Like he thought we were buds now and that meant I would want his mediocre dick. Not only did I find his assumption appalling, I found it hysterical too.
So, I sliced his cock. At first, I just took the tip. I love to bring men to their knees. And any slice or dice of a man’s worthless cock does just that. One of the reasons is I am always packing silver. He did not heed my warning, so I took the entire tiny package. And I untied Cate. Let her fuck his ass as payback. Sure, he got a free castration phone sex ticket he did not plan on, but he knew the rules. Although I could have killed him, I let him live. At least long enough for Cate to kill him. Turns out I like that bitch a lot more than I did Darren.
Knife play phone sex will always be a favorite of mine. Knives require skill. Anyone can kill some one with a bullet, but when you use a knife, you show prowess not luck. Hunters use knives. Sure, they use rifles too, but I prefer the old-style hunting. Hands, mind and a deadly knife equal a better win.
Knives possess diversity too because you can use a knife to kill or torture. A gun just kills. A hundred little strategically placed knife wounds prolongs suffering. However, a hundred bullet wounds, I consider a waste of bullets because the person would be dead after a few anyway. So, when I hunt prey, I only arm myself with a knife. It is all I need. And I went hunting yesterday.
Sometimes, when I have no clients who need my skills to get rid of a personal problem, I pick out a personal problem randomly. And Chris won my personal problem lottery last night and I rewarded him with free snuff sex. He made my radar a few months ago because of his actions towards women. I would call him a predator. He picks out the drunkest girl in a bar and fucks her. Predators always make my list. So, I went Promising Young Woman on him.
I shed my Goth looks and dressed up all cute and shit. Trust me. It killed me to dress that way. However, I was on a mission. And like the predictable piece of shit he is, he picked me up and took me home. I acted drunk, but I was sober as fuck. When he tried to take my clothes off, I stabbed him in the gut. Stomach wounds bleed out slowly, but painfully. Harder to restrict blood loss too. He never saw it coming.
I am fast on my feet. And skilled at the art of deception. While he bled out on his bedroom floor, I tortured his cock and balls. Sliced his dick like it was a salami log. My knife enabled me to prolong his torture sex. I made him feel all the pain his victims felt. I shoved part of his cock in his mouth. When the police discover his body, they will know it was a sexually motivated crime.
A bullet would show mercy. And this piece of shit deserved no mercy at all. Knives are my best friends. And they will always be my weapon of choice.
Bloody phone sex only gets bloodier when I am around. Why? Because I am a sick Goth chick who likes to go helter skelter when I kill. Don’t worry, I know how to clean up a crime scene. I learned from the best. My grandfather went to college for forensic science and criminology. Although he ended up running a prison, he passed down his knowledge of forensic arts to me. He cleaned up my first crime scene. And to this day, no one has discovered her body. Not even her bones.
However, since that schoolgirl crime I committed, my skills have improved. And I know how to harness my anger, so I never kill impulsively. That is what gets you caught. I used to kill quickly, swiftly and never left much of a mess to clean up. But I got bored of that kind of snuff. No fun if it is quick and clean. At least not for me.
I work alone or with an accomplice phone sex partner. Last night, I worked with a partner. A female too. That almost never happens. She wanted me to help her kill her ex-boyfriend. I did not ask any questions. To me, it is a pay day. So, I took her money, and we killed that bastard. However, she did not need my help.
Often with a male client, they get too squeamish to do the killing. So, I must step in and do it for them. But this bitch? Well, she grabbed a sickle and took his cock off. He must have really done something terrible. Or perhaps she is just a violent bitch like me. I watched and laughed as his dick sailed across the room. She chopped his fingers and toes off too. Made for a great blood splatter.
This bitch did not need my help. Perhaps, I was like a therapy dog. Just there for emotional support. I did get to chop some limbs with her. But mostly, I showed her how to clean up the carnage. Removing that much DNA took some time. I don’t know what that unlucky bastard did to my client, but his remains will never be found. The remains of anyone I kill or help kill are never found. I am that good with snuff sex.
Snuff phone sex brings all the perverts to my yard. Once men realize you get off on pain, suffering and snuff, you cannot beat them off with a stick. And sometimes I must. Men who hire me to commit a crime with them often think they love me. Just because I take your money to kill some whore with you does not mean I want to fuck you. We may have a great time force fucking and snuffing out a bitch together, but our relationship is transactional only.
David hired me to kill a cock teasing teen with him. Although I found murder and mayhem enjoyable with him, he still needed me to help him because he was too much of a pussy to do it on his own. So, strike one against him. If you cannot kill some brat without me, you are not sadistic enough for me to want to fuck. Plus, I never mix business with pleasure.
However, David did not understand that when I told him I do not fuck clients that I meant it. He tried to force himself on me. And well that did not end well for him. He died. But I took my sweet time with the torture sex. I strapped him on an X cross. Nailed his hands and feet to it too like some religious murder. I do not believe in heaven or hell, but I believe in pain.
And that was the only reason I did it. For the pain. I nailed his dick to it too. And his balls. That was fun. Eventually, I cut his dick off and stuffed it in his mouth because I got tired of hearing him bitch. What a pussy. Although I never mind helping men explore their rape fantasies, I am never the one they get to fuck. Never. I am an accomplice. I am a bad ass bitch in charge. So, you pay with your life if you try to fuck me or make me your victim.
I must send a clear message to others not to try the same stupid shit. So, when I had this guy’s cock severed, balls nailed to the cross and nails in all sorts of other places too, I live streamed it on the dark net. My own snuff porn. I slit his throat and watched him bleed out. However, his death is not in vain. He will help other men not make the same mistake he did.
Why castration phone sex? I know men ask me often why I chose to specialize in castration. Well, the answer is simple. Testicles are not an entitlement. No man deserves to have an erect cock. Yes, I said it and I believe it. And I stand by it too. When men see their erect dicks as an entitlement, they start to think women are here for them. That leads them to disregard women and see them as nothing but cum receptacles. Nope. Not the case, especially not with me. And not acceptable behavior.
Although many men pay me to remove their testicles, I take many for free. Men with small dicks appear more enlightened than men with average or big dicks. I do not care about the size of your dick. If you try to force yourself on me, or get overly aggressive with me, I will take your balls, and perhaps your cock too. Torture sex turns me on. So, do not for a moment think you are safe from my wrath simply because you have a big dick.
Alex thought his big cock gave him the right to force himself on a fellow Goth girl. She said no repeatedly, but he thought she was playing a game. So, she contacted me for revenge. I love revenge castration. Your dick and balls are a privilege, not an entitlement. And I can revoke your privileges anytime I want. Alex likes Goth girls, so we set him up. I enlisted his victim as my accomplice.
Revenge is a dish best served with severed testicles and a slice of cock. Once we had him incapacitated and tied up to his bed, I made sure he knew why we revoked his genital privileges. The look on his face when he saw his victim slice his nuts off with a rusty blade: priceless. When he started spewing his misogynistic crap, I personally slice off his cock and shoved it in his mouth. That shut him up.
Men, your dick and your balls are a privilege. Use them wisely or this sadistic phone sex bitch will revoke all your dick privileges for life.
Medical fetish phone sex calls are not as common, but still under my purview. I love to torture a man or a woman’s junk. Sounding is fun for me. Not on me. But on you. Can you believe that men pay me to hurt their cock and balls? And I take that money and deliver a painful cock and ball torture session.
Jimbo hired me last. He seemed self-aware. With a small dick he realizes he cannot please women. That’s more than I can say for many of my callers. I should never hear things like, “I’m gonna fuck her cunt with my big 5-inch dick.” If you think 5 inches is big, you should not be force fucking anyone. I mean even schoolgirls know 5 inches does not equal big in anyone’s world. So, I will give Jimbo credit for understanding his junk would never do any woman any favors.
He likes cock and ball torture sex. For years he saw a mistress who trampled his balls and jacked him off with Ben Gay. However, I told him I would never jack off a loser. Hell, I rarely jack off any guy. Perhaps I enjoy torture more than sex. Anyway, I agreed to a training session with Jimbo. So, I took his payment and arranged a day for him to visit me. He came over last night. And I think when he saw my knives and a sounding device, he got scared.
But he knew I was not a typical mistress. I am a sadistic bitch. I tied him to the bed and put a ball gag in his mouth so he would not bite his tongue. The first thing I did was insert a sounding device lathered in Icy Hot into his pee hole. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his erection I forced with a large dildo up his asshole. I used a knife to slit his pee hole. Blood dripped into his urethra making him cringe more. He wanted CBT fun. And he got it with a bit more.
By the time I finished our session he told me he should have asked for castration phone sex instead. I told him I could take his balls for free, but he ran out of my house like a gazelle. Perhaps, I was more than he bargained for. Might be more than you bargained for too.