The chamber is ready. The entire time I was setting it up my pussy dripped with anticipation. There is a large one way mirror on one wall. Microphones are set up for recording sound. A video tape is set up for recording image. I have three victims, two female and one male that have been kept while preparations were being made. He just left and I have the gas in my hands. My hands are shaking with anticipation. I believe I have enough for one solid week. I am retrieve the military rations that I bought and setting them up in the room. The three cots are set and everything looked good. He called the gas Scarecrow Fear Gas, named after something from a Batman movie. It is supposed to be a highly hallucinogenic gas that when taken in large quantities creates a paranoia and visions of fear and panic. I am very careful to set up the dispensing of the gas in a steady stream though the vents. As I lead my victims to the chamber I could feel the juices flowing down my inner thigh. I open the door and lock them in and begin the stream into the room. I leave and go to get a bite to eat, take a shower and masturbate. Alone with my thoughts as I allow the gas to take some effect. Staying away as long as I can, I return to the chamber. I can tell by their behavior that the gas is having some effect on them but not like I thought. Disappointed I retire to bed leaving them for the evening. The following morning I wake early eager and horny. I eat my breakfast and return to the chamber. Now we have something. They are all naked and hysterical. Each lost in his or her hallucination. The fear is evident in their eyes and the irrational behavior is turning me on. As I sit and watch I masturbate to the evil taking place before my eyes. As the day goes on and more of the gas is inhaled the behavior becomes more bizarre and satisfied every evil thought in my head. Finally I retire for the evening eager for day two. Returning to the chamber I find carnage. The female has ripped her finger nails off and is biting chunks of flesh our of her arms. One of the men has skinned his cock some how and it is a massive chunk of meat. The other male is in the corner clawing flesh from his face and laughing hysterically. I cum instantly without even touching myself, reveling in my glory. I leave them again as I have errands to run. When I return I find that the female is dead, the males are pulling her organs from her flesh torn body. What a shame I had hoped she would last longer. What happens next you will have to find out by watching the film of my torture.
Category: Bloody phone sex
Ass Rape Porn to Snuff Porn Documentary: Cassandra Films it All
We were on the couch fucking. Actually, he was fucking me like I was an ass rape porn star; nailing my ass hard with his foot long cock. I love rough anal, but 12 inches of thick meat up my ass is difficult to take. He was not happy with me. He tossed me off the couch and put on some snuff porn. He loves to watch the sick shit when fucking me. In his mind, I am nothing more than a fuck pig. The film he put in was about the kidnapping and torture of several women, a mother and her daughters it looked like. It was gruesome, but he was standing in front of the TV jacking off watching these chicks get force fucked before dying slow, painful deaths.
That’s when it dawned on him that I would be perfect for a snuff porn documentary. I didn’t like the sound of that. Within an hour, several of his friends were over. He grabbed me by the throat and fucked my ass until I passed out from lack of oxygen. I woke up naked, and strapped to a wood table, much like the mom in the snuff movie we watched. His cohorts began mutilating my breasts with sharp blades. I screamed, cried, prayed I was having a nightmare. Do men really get off ruining the female body? My nipples were cut then sliced off. My breasts were stabbed repeatedly until the saline bags popped. They actually cut my breasts off and removed the saline bags then started pissing into the stumps that use to be my perfect big boobs.
I was going into shock from the pain when they turned their focus to my worthless cunt and ass. They had this look of sick glee on their faces as they each held up some sharp instrument to impale me with. As my head turned, to avoid looking at them stabbing my fuck holes, I saw one guy filming it all with his cock hard as a rock. Pretty sure I was in shock as I was numb and cold. They were pulling my cervix out, even my uterus. Blood was pooling all around me. I felt once last jolt of excruciating pain as a knife impaled my belly, before I heard the final words,” snuff the bitch.” The knife across my throat I didn’t even feel. Thank God for small favors I guess.
Sex with Dead Bodies: What’s Your Sick Fantasy?
I get told all the time I am going to hell. I take it as a compliment. Means I am not afraid to go into the fringes, the dark crevices of human desires. We all have sick and perverted thoughts. Just most of you let guilt or morality or common decency rule your actions. Not me. No impulse control. No censor. I am your perfect accomplice because I will push you to act on your sick fantasies. I use blackmail, torture, even threat of death to you or your loved ones if you don’t do as I want, which is really what you want too.
Take Chad for example. I hacked his computer. Guys are such easy prey for a little dirty IM. They think I am some blonde buxom goddess, start cybering with me, and boom, I’m in their computer seeing all the sick things that make them hard. Chad is a necrophilia wannabe. He wants to have sex with dead bodies. A cold corpse gets him hard. So, when we were sexting about our dark desires, I laid the bait. “I fantasize about being a corpse and getting fucked,” I typed on my computer screen. Funny, he suggested we meet. Men are so easy to manipulate.
He was a bit shocked to discover that I didn’t exactly look like my yahoo pic. When he tried to run, I showed him my big knife, and photos of some of the sick shit I pulled off his computer. “Consider me your dark angel helping you make all your dreams cum true,” I said with an devilish grin. I blind folded him and took him on a little trip to the county morgue. I have a like minded sick friend who gets me access to the cadavers after hours. It’s good to have friends in dead places! I had the perfect specimen picked out for Chad. This poor dead girl headless and without any organs. An empty vessel so to speak. I may have helped remove her guts for my own sick pleasure, but that’s for a different blog.
I removed the blindfold. Chad gasped in horror while simultaneously popping a huge boner in his pants. I held the knife to his back and made him fuck her cold dead cunt. It was fucking hot as hell because you could see his cock poking through her open cavity. Just a hollowed out skeleton; all that remained was bones and some sinew. She was ice cold; but his cock was red hot. When he came, I could see the cum decorating her rib cage, from the inside. “Aren’t you glad you met me Chad,” I inquired? “Now your twisted fantasies are a reality.” He still looked at me like I was the Antichrist before scurrying away like a scared puppy.
Face it. Maybe not now, but some time, he will be grateful he met me. You will too. I will help you by whatever means necessary act on your most sick and twisted desires. Everyone needs a dark angel on their shoulder.
The Wedding Night
I don’t think there’s a bigger turn on than a woman who knows her place. I know I’m just white trash. I live in a run-down trailer with my drunk of a BF, Larry. He pimps me out to everyone. Doing drugs keeps me sane. Just a line or two and I would fuck anything with a cock….and I do mean ANYTHING. I will probably be a dirty whore until they carry away my cold, dead body, and even then, he’d probably still be pimpin’ me out.
Lately, his game is to dress me up like a flashy tramp. Short skirt, high heels, thigh high stockings, fake eyelashes, the whole works. He loves to make me up. Sometimes I think he is a fag at heart and that’s why he doesn’t fuck me himself. “Look, bitch.” he said to me. “I need money to pay a gambling debt. Don’t come home until you have $500.”
I admit that made me pretty hot. I thought about the beating I would get if I came home short. I decided the best way to make that much was to get a bachelor party gig.
That’s when I saw you. You are standing all alone, waiting for your wedding day only 12 hours from now. You look drunk and angry. I decide to fuck with you. “Hey, sexy,” I purr. Why don’t we have a wedding recital tonight. You and the wedding party can all line up and fuck me.” I feel your slap come out of nowhere. You hit me hard across the face. “You cunt,” you whisper, “I love my fiance.”
My skin tingles and I am turned on. I look at you with big blue eyes. “Hit me again. Come on. Take it out on me.” You smile cruelly and drag me towards the party room. I feel you rip off my sexy dress, leaving me in my stockings. “Cunt likes abuse.” you say. Someone grabs my arm and I feel liquid gold rush into my veins. The rest is a blur.
I awake to see you standing over me. You are jerking your cock hard and fast. “Filthy whore. Dirty white trash. Harlot. Skank” you whisper as you blast your nutsac onto my prone body.
I look into the mirror. My face is broken. I see a busted lip, black eye, and bruised cheeks from being slapped. I look further down. I have bruises from being kicked. My pussy is sore and my asshole feels like someone shoved a boot up it. Suddenly, I am overcome with need. I stand in front of the mirror and finger my pussy viciously, coming to a screaming orgasm. I see you still standing there, watching. Your slowly begin to clap and throw a wad of money at me. I count it out. $1000. I look up and smile at you.
I know I have you now. You’ll be back for more. Every time you argue with your pretty little wife. Those times when she says no and you are so horny. Your first big fight when you want to knock her teeth down her throat. It’s me you’ll turn to. You know my weakness and I know yours. It’s me who’ll take the abuse meant for her. I’ll get the raging fuck where you choke me and call me names. Your fist will pound me when she wounds your pride. I’m nothing but a punching bag for your rage and I love it. I’m here waiting. honey. Hurry back!!
Snuff Porn Cock Muncher
I used to think snuff porn consisted only of pretty girls getting tortured for the satisfaction of all viewers. It was not until my thirst for blood led me to the male penis that I found out that snuff be way heavier. I was an accomplice, when I realized that the man in charge was not so manly after all. I was growing old of how squeamish he was around dead body that we created decided that it needed to be fixed right away he whimpered and cried for me to stop, I couldn’t. So I decided that I was going to make him into my collection of victims. I tied him up to a chair and smelled close to his neck. His veins pulsated as his heart raced with fear. I love listening to him cry and whimper, begging me not to hurt him. That was only making it harder for him, I went over to my table so I could let him see the tools I was going to be using on him. I thought hard to myself decided a man, a man he called himself. But was he a man? No he was not!
I grabbed some rope, easy enough, and I tied it from the underside of his ball sack on top of his already throbbing penis. His cock was hard turned on by the fact that I was dominating him. Something that I knew I would never have problems with but never really faced. I had always been an accomplice never really thought I’d run across somebody who claim to be man, but really a sissy, And I did!Dominating, which came by awfully easy you ask me. He begged and cried for me to stop but his eyes said something else. His eyes, that begged me to continue on with his penile torture. I tied it with a rope from the under side of his balls across the base pulling it hard listening to whimper and then taking two alligator clamps I secured them onto his nipples, and he yelped. He yelled as if he was being kicked in his side. Which I already did intended on doing from the beginning. I took my high heels and kicked it straight across his face scratching him tip of my heel into the side of his mug. I loved every second of it.
As I continued to rip his body apart and burn his nuts, he pleaded with me to get in a moment of satisfaction. Suddenly I had an overwhelming feeling and put his big throbbing cock into my mouth. I began to suck on it running, my tongue along the underside of his mushroom tip, and moving my head up and down. That’s when he said it, that’s what he really set me off,”good girly,” he said to me. Girly? I am no girly, I am a woman yes but not a little girl. Not like he was making me out to be I became enraged I dug my teeth into the base of his cock.I listened to scream his whole body began to shake as I bit harder. I bit until I met my teeth on the other side completely clamp down on to his wiener. I ripped his cock straight off of him spitting it out into a tray that’s when I started, collecting and munching on dicks for fun. It was a nice hobby and I really enjoyed it couldn’t wait until I got more victims like him, victims I would enjoy torturing for taboo phone sex fun!
Snuff Porn Torture Death the Cure All for Redneck Neighbors
Snuff porn is what gets me off. The bloodier, the better. The homemade snuff porn torture death variety is my favorite. I guess you could say that when it comes to my own snuff movies, I like to go medieval. If you are a fan of torture sex, like I am, then you know that in the Game of Thrones era death and dismemberment were extra violent, extra gruesome, extra painful, and very deadly. In other words, awesome.
I have had my eye on new neighbors. Annoying fuckers who violate every code of decency. Their lawn looks like a Griswold Christmas year round; they blare country music at all hours of the night; their junker Ford pickup truck leaves toxic fumes for days and they are meth heads so tweakers in and out 24/7. No one wants them in our little community, but no one has the balls to do anything about it. We all know I have bigger balls than an elephant. Normally, I don’t hunt or kill in my back yard, but pretty certain if I got caught, my neighbors would high five me rather than turn me in. Sometimes bitches just have to die.
These ass hats were worthy of a slow tortuous death. I was inspired by watching some vintage medieval porn with religious under tones. Decided to make the crime scene look rather frantic and religious. I walked right into their home early one morning and found them making crystal meth in the kitchen. Stupid cunt was pregnant too. High as a kite, so easy to control. Tied the bitch to her dining room table spread eagle. Took an old huge ass crucifix, fucked her cunt until her insides started to spill out. Left her breathing so she could watch me sodomize her man from Deliverance baby daddy with that same crucifix. I enjoyed torturing their worthless fuck holes. Neither had the right to procreate.
After about an hour of playtime for me, I broke out my medieval sword and beheaded them. I started with him. Blood spurted out the neck stump and his head rolled off the table with his eyes wide open. Perfect. He could watch me behead his skank ass wife, who was likely his first cousin too. Their heads ended up smacking against each other. I may have played a little soccer for shits and giggles while the blood poured from their lifeless bodies. Oh, and I may have filmed it. Turns out, I enjoy killing inbred redneck tweakers. It is very satisfying to rid the world of useless fucks. I confused the crime scene with equal parts religious fanaticism and drug war gone bad. It will be unsolvable like all my kills. It will also be coming to the world of underground 8 MM films very soon. Maybe they can repay me in death for exposing me to “Drunk on a Plane” at 3 am every morning. In hindsight, I didn’t torture them enough.
Hunting for Food or Fun?
After a long day outside in the heat I FINALLY found the one I wanted. She wasn’t too big and she wasn’t too skinny. She was perfect for me. She was walking down the highway with her thumb up. I knew she would get in the car with me. I look nice, and sweet but in my mind she looked so good to eat. I pulled my car off to the side of the road. She ran to get in. I opened the door for her, she was sweaty and looked tired. I turned the cold air on blast to give her a little chill. I wanted to see her nipples get hard. The smell of her sweat made my stomach growl.
I asked her where she was going and like a runaways she said “Anywhere but here.” I smiled and off we went. I offered her a place to stay, shower, eat and a bed to sleep in. After about 3 hours of talking in the car on the way to my house I knew I just had to have her. I ordered some food and grabbed a bottle of wine. I showed her to the bathroom and gave her some of my clothes. When she came out of the bathroom, she smelled so sweet. Her body was so clean I wanted to take a bite out of her then. I waited, I offered her some wine and she downed it like it was the last thing she will ever have.
I poured another Glass she did the same thing, before the food even got to my house the whore was tied up and in my basement. She woke up to me chopping some onion and getting a piece of meat all trimmed of fat and getting ready to cook. She couldn’t move, she started to scream but her mouth wouldn’t open. I giggled as I showed the whore her own leg in my roasting pan. I wanted her to eat herself before I finished her off.
Bagged Pussy
Ever since I was a little girl, pain and torture have intrigued me. Watching my father beat my mother probably had something to do with it. He would beat her for hours, busting her nose, lips, biting her breasts, and making her scream. Afterward, they would have loud make-up sex. I’d hear her screaming for him to hit her, that she deserved it. They’d fuck so loud that our ratty old trailer would shake. Sometimes I masturbated to the sounds.
By the time I was in my late teens, I, too, had become a victim of violence. My boyfriend was a druggie who would force me to do drugs and then beat me unconscious. I associated brutality with love, for that was all I had known. Just a simple slap or arm twist would make my pussy leak through my panties.
One night, my BF brought this new man home. He told me that I was expected to cater to his whims and do as I was told. He said he was making money and I was a worthless slut who needed to work.
The man, only known as Master D, was a sadistic bastard. He got off on hearing a woman scream and beg. The things he did to me that night are beyond mention. He drugged, gagged, raped, and tortured me. He made me lick his shitty hole and pissed on my face.
My boyfriend stayed quietly in the corner, just out of sight, jerking off as I was demeaned and beaten. I could tell that he enjoyed the show. My pussy started throbbing a bit as he beat welts onto my back. Never before had I felt so alive and turned on. I screamed louder and that seemed to inflame him more.
Finally, Master D was ready to cum. He took a plastic bag, and despite my begging, placed it over my head. “You are a worthless cunt and you deserve to die.” he rasped. My breath was cut short as he tied the bag tightly around my throat. The world was spinning as he slammed his monster cock viciously into me, tearing my flesh. My pussy begin to pulse as my oxygen level dropped. My back arched, my legs kicked.
Without warning, I was wracked by a massive orgasm that made me suck the plastic tighter over my face. At the same time, I felt his beefy cock begin to pulsate deep within me. He roared like an evil beast, pulling his cock from my bloody hole and spewed his load all over the plastic bag. My world went black.
I awoke several hours later to find my boyfriend standing over me. He smiled wickedly, his erect cock in hand, as he gazed upon my broken body.
Now I knew my real worth and I was ready to be the worthless slut, just like my mama.
Killer Torture Sex Trophies
Most girls grow up idolizing singers and actresses, even athletes. Not me. I was always fascinated by serial killers. Did you know most serial killers keep souvenirs of their kills? Little trophies to help them relive the moment. Serial killers even give their trophies as gifts to loved ones or family members. Anatoly Onoprienko kept the underwear of 52 victims in the Ukraine. Ahmad Suradji killed 42 chicks in Eastern Europe and kept their saliva. Ted Bundy sometimes kept the heads of his pretty victims. Elizabeth Bathoy, a 16th century Countess linked to over 600 brutal torture sex deaths, kept some of her victims blood. And of course we all know that Jeffrey Dahmar kept the genitals of his dead dinner guests.
From body parts to jewelry to clothing, the world’s worst murderers, my heroes, have kept trophies. I’m a sadist. I don’t always kill for sexual pleasure. Sometimes it is for sport, sometimes money, sometimes opportunity, sometimes to teach a lesson, sometimes because an annoying fuck has exceeded his or her tolerance level with me. Whatever my motive at the time, my heroes have taught me to take tokens. I am not as random in my souvenir taking as I am with my killings. I love to take balls. I appreciate the twisted mind of Dahmer, so I keep them in a lobster pot on the stove, just like he did. I, however, don’t eat them. I make my female victims devour them in a sick game of “Would You Rather?” You see, if a worthless cunt has the choice between eating the testicles of a dead asshat or dying a painful death, she always selects option one. There is no integrity in that, so she dies regardless. I have spared the life of a couple bitches who stood their ground: no eating human rocky mountain oysters under any circumstance. In the face of death, folks show their true nature. Desperate people with no principles, no personal code of ethics, don’t deserve to live.
Just last week I took the balls of a stupid fuck I saw kick a dog. I may be a sadistic bitch, but I pick a fair fight. I put on some steel toed Doc Martins and kicked him in his worthless balls till he was puking up blood. “How does it feel to be kicked loser,” I asked as I channeled my inner David Beckham on his groin. Crying ass pansy. I strapped him to this old electric chair I got at a prison auction, chopped his balls off first, then his pecker which I stuffed in his mouth as I slit his throat. I pissed on the bloody stump that use to contain his tally whacker and masturbated as I squeezed his balls in my hand watching him bleed out. The next morning, I had a contract kill scheduled for a cheating whore gold digging wife. As she was chomping on his severed balls, my little trophy, in a worthless attempt to save her life, I asked her how her douche bag boyfriend’s testicles tasted. The expression on her face was priceless. Almost as good as the expression when she realized I was going to kill her anyway. “Maybe you can keep your whore legs crossed in hell, bitch,” I giggled as I stabbed her cheating cunt with a 12 inch serrated blade until she no longer twitched. I don’t usually take trophies from female victims, but it was kind of poetic justice that I had her boyfriend’s dead balls, well one ball, she ate the other one. So, I took her worthless clit. In an old cigar box on my mantle I have the ball and clit of dead stupid lovers. Who says I am not a romantic?
Taboo Phone Sex Fantasies: Death by Exsanguination
I saw her staring at me all night. Beautiful dark goddess. The way she looked at me consumed me with naughty thoughts. My pussy got so wet from her gaze. She looked like she could own me. I wanted her to own me. Normally, I am only submissive to men, but there was something so mesmerizing, so intoxicating about her, that I knew I would do whatever she wanted. She bought me a drink. We went into a VIP room at the club.
No words were ever exchanged. I saw the BDSM equipment adorning the walls of the room. I gave myself up willingly to her. Arms extended, head bowed, I fell to my knees and kissed her feet, slowly working my lips all the way up her perfect body. He skin was alabaster white and cool to the touch. She collared me. Yanked me up by a chain. She escorted me to a chair where she strapped me in. Looked like a flogging chair. I wanted her to beat me. She sniffed my hair, my neck; she seemed to be drinking in my scent.
She spread my legs. I was excited beyond my imagination at the thought of her eating my pussy. Then suddenly, I felt a sting followed by a warm cascading sensation. I must of peed myself in excitement. I felt cold, however. The warm sensation of earlier was gone. She stood up from between my legs covered in blood, my blood. She bit my femoral artery. I was bleeding out, not slowly either. I could feel myself getting weaker, colder. Yet somehow I was aroused. Nipples erect, clit hard.
She kissed me with my blood on her lips. The only thing I ever said to her was, “Bite me.” He mouth opened wide and I saw the fangs. Pretty white razor sharp fangs bit into my external carotid artery. Blood gushed out my neck. Two small bite marks would drain me faster of all my blood than 100 stab wounds. I guess I need to be careful who I pick up in a bar.