Bloody phone sex? I drink my victim’s blood and toast their death. Last night, I bathed in my victim’s blood. She was a hot teen slut. Not as hot as she thought she was. Not as bright as she thought she was either. She fell for the scream queen test. I tell dumb cunts I am a talent scout for horror films, and they buy it every time. Not sure why, but every time, that is the line I use to lure them into my car and to my kill shack and to their deaths. I had this idea or plan, I guess, to torture this teen bimbo. I was bored and felt like prolonged torture and disfigurement was appropriate. I was in a murder and torture mode. The cunt tried to flee from me, tripped over the rug as I grabbed her pink hoodie, hit her head and died. Just like that my hopes and dreams crushed with a blow to the head. Can I tell you how disappointed I was? I planned for days which cunt I was going to mutilate. I was pissed off. It was too late to get another blonde bimbo at the mall. I got creative. I put on a strap-on and did what I do on necrophilia phone sex calls. That was fun, but not enough. I decided to exsanguinate her. I drained her blood. Drained it all into the tub and I bathed in it. Drank it too. Masturbated in her warm blood. Blood is a fountain of youth. I love how it makes my skin glow. I was left with some skin and bones and entrails. I am a generous sadistic bitch, so I fed her remains to the coyotes out back. Keeps them loyal to me if I ever get myself in a bind. Sometimes you must make the best out of a bad situation.
Venus
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