The hiss that escapes out between clenched teeth during Bloody phone sex, the dreaded fear that comes with a cold steel at skin, and the exhilaration as it slices through muscle and transforms a feature into something completely different. I’m a masochist through and through, and my scars are just another reminder at the bliss I’ve managed to convey to myself despite a lot of supporters telling me I’m going to far. They’re not battle scars that mark my body, I’m not an edgy teen too lost in the whirling pain to express myself in any way but overwhelmed by agony, I’m just that tainted and twisted. I love every moment, every bloody drop spilled, and every piercing scream you get with Evil phone sex. If it’s not on my personal canvas, it has to be someone else doesn’t it? One way or another, blood will be spilled, and I hope it’s mine but I’m not averse to spreading out if it means someone cries out and wakes the dead.
If I can get that while a cock is pumping in my pussy, all the better. I’m not going to try and pretend I’m above being a dirty slut, it’s my career and I take pride in it. I bruise easily, so if my whole abdomen isn’t purple by the time you’re done reaming me, you clearly didn’t try hard enough you fucking pussy. Don’t be a weak ass bitch with me, I want to feel bones creak and blood flow. If you don’t have it in you to fuck hard enough to make a cunt cry, then you better at least be able to work a knife or bite hard. No pussies here except my actual pussy, you better work your magic and make me cum a crimson stream.
It’s halloween, don’t fuck around, get out all your gruesome Rape phone sex fantasies on my poor abused body.
Fiona
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