Category: Gothic phone sex

Sexual Humiliation

torture phonesex karmaI heard about a law suit that was filed by the Iraqis against the British for the use of Sexual Intimidation Interrogation techniques. Of course the word Sexual peeked my interest immediately. The more I listened and learned about this technique the more I knew I had to try it and the more I knew I had to put my evil fucking twist on it and make it more wicked and sadistic and demented then anyone could ever imagine. Oh my mind was racing and the thoughts were coming a mile a minute. Who did I want information out of? No one really, but who could I get information from that might be useful to me in some way shape or form? And who could I really mess up in the head using this type of interrogation method? One thing is for sure a prude would be the one to be most fucked up by this and would be the one that I could use to take this to a whole new level. Then it hit me, that rich old widow on the dead end road. Everyone knows she is an old prude that has a fortune stashed in that mansion of hers. I could use this method of interrogation to find out where the money is stashed. Of course I couldn’t leave her alive to tell the tale, which is just the icing on the cake. What would fuck her up sexually? Forced bisexuality, yes that would be a start. Bugs all over her body, oh yes that would work. Perhaps a four legged friend and some ass fucking would take her over the edge. Tomorrow night I strike and put my plan in motion. I am sure I can think of so much more between now and then.

Sissy Parade in New Orleans

Blashphemy phone sex

It’s New Orleans, one of my favorite places to be because it is so damn crazy. I was walking past a residential area when I heard muttering; I squinted and I could see a flashlight in one of the graveyards. I thought it was just a couple of teens playing around, maybe spray-painting the tombstones. But, then I heard, “No, I am not opening it! I just got my nails done!” I was intrigued and moved in for a closer look. There were a bunch of young sissies standing around a couple of open tombs; only the final cover remained between them and the corpse. “We have to do it, ya’ll or Master will be angry,” one of the more logical ones said. My ears perked up: these sissies belonged to someone. I focused on them and could see that they were really not prepared to do what they were instructed to do; after all, who wears high-heels and short skirts on a job like this? Finally, the logical one opened the casket, struggled with the body, and then demanded help. The others helped lift the body, and then it became apparent what they were doing: they were stealing the clothes off the dead people! Most of them gagged as they did this, but I was impressed with their resolution and continued to follow them. “Now, girls,” the sissy whose nails were recently manicured said, “remember that we must prance our little sissy hearts out! Master is watching and we cannot disappoint him. No stealing beads, but everything else is fine. Beads must be earned from flashing!” And, along they marched, this very interesting crew. I walked down Bourbon Street as far as I could without getting absorbed into the crowd; and, sure enough, there was a man sitting on a balcony with a cigar…and a woman, wearing a dog collar, at his feet. Our eyes met and we had an understanding; I smiled as the crowd became even more boisterous. Yes, the sissies had arrived!

Gas mask Torture

torture phonesex karmaHow many ways can I think of to torture someone? Sometimes I amaze my self with my creativity and the length to which I am willing to go to cum so hard that I can’t breath. I had a dream about a post apocalyptic world and everyone was wearing gas masks. They looked so dark and sinister and everything was destroyed and blown to fucking hell. The devastation alone made me cum in my sleep. So I went on a quest to find a gas mask and a victim and to cause as much devastation to her as I felt in my dream. I wanted to take her so far into darkness and delirium that she couldn’t separate reality from fantasy, all the while torturing her in every imaginable way. I found the mask and the victim, and some kick ass PCP and set my plan in motion. Grabbing her was easy, I have become very clever when it comes to obtaining my victims. When I got her tied up and in her gas mask I began filling it with the PCP smoke. Soon the angel dust took effect and true to her name she gave my victim the sensation of leaving her body, reality colliding with the drug. And I began to create the worst trip ever. Yes I sure do amaze my self….

Calling all Sadists

Sadistic phone sex2

Several guys have solicited my services who think that they are so tough but tuck their tails and run at either gore or sweetness. They mock my sugary, southern accent…but how do you think that I catch such ripe, young prey?! You are fools if you think you can come at people with a hatchet and slaughter many. No, I prefer to gather them up like a sweet flock and mutilate and torture them. You must have patience and the thirst for sadism.

People ask if I cum, and that’s stupid. Of course, I do. But it’s from sadistic torturing, blood, guts, revenge, and fucking the dead holes of some skank or mother.

I am tired of this silly little game that some people play. I want fun…relentless cruelty. And, if you cannot laugh in the face of a munchkin’s face getting clawed open by a shovel, don’t call me. If you can—and I do hope that you can—add to this, call me NOW. Let’s have some fun and let our wicked minds run rampant. Do you dare? I do…I double-dare you!

Abandoned Asylum

When my brother and I were young, we were sentenced to an asylum; our dumb parents thought that would help us… and it did but just not in the way they hoped. We learned new, better, more creative ways to harm ourselves and others.

We decided to re-visit our old haunt but we thought it’d be safer to go at night when it wasn’t as well staffed. They drug you at night; during the day is when you cause trouble. When we drove up, everything was dark and the building barely stood upright. Windows, walls, and doors were missing. We investigated the debris with our flashlights. There were toothbrushes by the sinks as if everyone had been unexpectedly interrupted in their routines.

It seemed like fire was the cause of the destruction. There was one place that we had to check for old time’s sake: a trap door in the floor. It creaked a little, then broke, as we removed the lid. When I shined my light down below, I saw a skeleton. My brother and I laughed because it had a name tag; and the only people who wore badges were nurses. We strained to read it: R-e-b-a. That was the head nurse!

We looked up at each other and instantly knew what had happened: no one knew about the trap door except patients, and that fire had been set on purpose, most likely to cover up dear old Reba’s death. We looked a little further and could see a few patients’ bracelets. “We finally revolted,” my brother said. I told him that it was a shame that we hadn’t been a part of that; but, we did our legacy…and that’s for another time. We walked out of the abandoned building and said, “Keep it tip-top,” which was Reba’s motto.

Baby Cherries Bye-Bye

I love listening to babies scream! Have you ever broken a baby’s hymen? Well, it’s a lot of fun. I like to stick my fingers in their little diapers and feel around for those tiny cunny slits. When I find that wet baby hole, I make sure to peel apart those miniature pussy lips. So precious, tender, and fragile. So thrilling to fuck up! One of my drug dealers loves playing this game with me. He masturbates into a baby bottle and rubs his cock against the plastic container ’til his screwrod spills cum inside. Then I take the baby bottle filled with the guy’s spermy spud and bring it over to the house I’m babysitting at. When the younger brats are in bed, I spend a lot of time in the nursery. After all, such a small, defenseless baby can’t tell her mommy and daddy that I’m torturing her fuck holes. When the adults are away, the sitter will play! I doooo play. I shake that baby bottle full of adult man semen into that baby’s cunny hole and make sure to do it hard until she cries. I want to impregnate this little whining bitch some day. I know it’s hard to get young baby girls pregnant because they have to be ovulating, but it never hurts to try. Such a tiny little itty-bitty canal–I want to force my entire hand up there and split it apart someday.

STay awAy and don’t come Back

She said she wanted to be my friend. Everywhere I went, the stupid, worthless cunt followed like a poor little puppy dog lost in the world like a maze. When I ditched school for a few days to get high and fuck some dick, floundering in debauchery and soaking up the sin like the Absinthe running through my veins, she sent me some crybaby texts about missing me. How’d the stupid slut get my phone number? I show my true colors–quiet, sinister, seductively deadly–by acting like an lethal monster to everyone I come across. I don’t fucking want them to know me. I don’t want them to fucking like me. I don’t want them to fucking TEXT me. The peckerhead was getting involved where she was not wanted. Almost ruined one of my illicit deals by running her stupid goddamn trap where it did not belong. The wrong place at the wrong time? I don’t believe it. She’d been following me. I found the asswipe whore after school, pushed her against the wall and told her straight-up to FUCK OFF or she’d be in for it. Did she want her little pussy sliced apart and baked into a nutsack pie? I poked her with my sharp nails and scratched them slowly across her skin, prickling the senses and leading her attention astray. “I will fuck you up,” I whispered down to her. “Don’t mess with me.” But the next day, she still hadn’t learned her lesson. I saw her leaving the principal’s office with a guilty look on her face. FEAR. She was scared shitless when she saw me watching her. That’s when I knew what I had to do. I waited to get her alone, and jumped her. I wrapped a nylon cord around her throat and choked the bitch until her skin was completely indented with my malicious intent. I pulled it taut and watched her struggling cease. At first she batted at my hands and groaned, kicking, trying to escape. Screams filtered from the corner of her mouth. She managed to hit me in the side of the head. I smacked her against the wall and tightened the cord further. It wasn’t until I’d heard that distinctive SNAP! that I stopped tugging and tied the knot on the noose. Precious. I tied it up to the hook on the ceiling and walked away, brushing my hands on my sullied jeans as I left. She’s gonna look fucking great there, hanging like the shitscared baby ass motherfucker she is. In the meantime while I wait for them to discover her depressing suicide . . . I deserve a cocksucking serial number for all the sluts I’ve killed.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Sadistic phone sex Jez

I hate college towns, but they’re good for one thing: football games. No, of course, I don’t love the game. But between the drinking and crowds, it’s a paradise for a sadistic whore like me! So many ages, shapes and sizes, races, and degrees of stupidity. I was feeling particularly wicked and wanted a nice, fresh face…someone who was pretty that I could mar. She was easy to spot; she had people gathered around her; and, since she was so popular, it was going to be a challenge to get her alone. But I was up for it! I waited patiently until she stumbled to the bathroom alone.

I walked up behind her, pressed a knife in her back, and said, “If you want to live, you will do exactly what I say.” She smelled of beer and perfume. I took her back to an empty high school gym, where I had set up my toys. I tied her up and made her watch videos of prom queens and beauty pageants…as I sliced her face. I left the rest of her body alone; I just wanted to scar her face, watch the blood leak from what everyone admired. She cried, “My face…” and I chuckled, reminding her that she would never again look like the beautiful girls on the screen. I let her live but kept tabs on her as she suffered with deep depression.

One night, I left her a note that told me to meet me up on the roof of a campus building; I signed it with some of her blood that I had kept. Of course she came. I told her that she didn’t have anything worth living for and that her eyes even looked dead. I noticed cuts on her arms that I had never given her and smiled. “Why don’t you just end it?” I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of pushing her. I whispered evil musings in her ear, the same ones that I had told her on our first night together. Blankly, she stepped off, screamed only for a second, and made a sound like a cantaloupe on the pavement. It was one of the most beautiful sights that I had seen in a while.

Dreams of the living dead

Snuff phone sex

I was startled awake by a wonderful dream that I didn’t want to end; I’m sure some people would’ve called it “ghoulish.” My youngest sister, who’d died when she was little, was walking around…maturing as a teen but still decomposing. She took my hand and walked through various graveyards, showing me which ones were her victims and how she mutilated them. Then, she took me to the park, where she found a set of twins on a seesaw; she went over and talked to them and they followed her. I admired her choice in victims and watched smugly as my little sister led them to an abandoned factory building. It looked like she had spent years accumulating different torture devices, some that were antique and I would’ve loved to have! She allowed me to choose one of the twins and then the fun began. We took turns torturing our innocents, as if we were playing a board game. We laughed as we slung bats with spikes in the girls’ legs, tore at the girl’s flesh with our teeth, and gouged out their eyes. We were having so much fun that we were delaying their deaths; but, of course, we couldn’t resist for too long. She strangled hers, pressing her hands tightly around the small larynx until it was crushed. I always prefer the bloodier route: I cut her in half, from head to torso. I thought it was fitting to make her a twin of herself as if in some sort of twisted irony. We sat in the pool of blood and held hands…and I finally knew that she had never left me!

Little Sister Needs Assfucking

My little sister is so fucking scared of ghosts, she pisses her pants whenever I “see” one. ;D I thought this would be a wonderful opportunity to get out my ouija board and show the little bitch how Alice sets fires under asses. She was playing on the floor of the living room, two dolls in each hand. I snatched them away and told her to get undressed. Her eyes got so wide and started watering. I told her to do what I fucking told her to or I’d snap her dollies’ heads off. Little Jasmine did as she was told and began to strip off her little shorts and tank top set. When her soft little baby girl body was all exposed and naked, I grabbed her shed clothes, balled them up, and threw them in the fireplace so she couldn’t put them on again. Then I gave a sickeningly evil grin and got out the ouija board. “Cum play with me,” I told her, “it’s a fun game.” She was sad and frightened, but she’s used to me abusing her. She did what I told her to do because she knows what will happen if she doesn’t. When she put her hands on the planchette, I put mine on top. Then I asked if she was a dirty, sick little slut who needed to get a cock shoved up her tiny baby asshole. She started crying so hard; it made me smile even wider. Well, guess what, perv lovers? The spirit board said YES! ;D Who wants a turn first?