It would not be Killtober without bloody phone sex. Recently, a caller inspired me to utilize more medieval torture. My grandfather did not just leave me his massive knife collection, but his medieval torture collection too. Some of the pieces are authentic and appraised at a high price. And insured too. But a couple pieces are replicas made to look authentic. All of which now reside in my underground bunker. Or best known as my new kill shack. Have not abandoned my old one yet, but this new one is more convenient.
So, after my phone call, I spoke with a friend who seems to be able to find anything you want or need from young girls to drugs to a medieval rack. But I have always wanted a medieval rack. And he found me one. For a pretty penny, of course. It got delivered yesterday. And it even has fresh blood stains on it. My guess, some one else used it recently for torture sex. Just like I planned to do also.
But who would be my first victim? My need to try this expensive, centuries old torture device, made me less selective. So, the first person to annoy me would win one free torturous death. And that just happened to be some vacuous self-entitled coed cunt who cut in line at my Goth coffee house thinking all the other Goth folks would not check her bad behavior, and when someone did, she went off on an unholy rant. My lucky turned into her last day on earth.
Nothing Better Than a Bloody, Torturous Medieval Death
I followed her in my car, cut her off the road, dragged her out of her expensive car that no doubt mommy and daddy bought for her. Luckily, she went down a back road, less traveled. Tossed her in my trunk and drugged her. And she woke up tied to my new rack. Feisty whore. Mouthy too. I put a ball gag in her mouth because I hate those whiny, high pitched bimbo sounds. Once I cranked the rack up, she started screaming. Muffled screams, but at least she was no longer talking.
Honestly, I like to prolong the snuff sex torture for as long as possible so I can achieve maximum pain for my victim and maximum pleasure for me. But her voice and screeching forced me to put her out of my misery. So, she died quickly. At least quickly by my standards. But painfully. My nice new toy ripped her in two. Eviscerated her, leaving her guts on the floor and her blood on my wall. But nothing a hose and some paint cannot fix.
Venus
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