Category: Killer phone sex

Knife Play Phone Sex is My Favorite

knife play phone sexI do not feel like it’s a secret that I love knife play phone sex. Guns are for losers. When people kill with their bare hands or a knife that seems like a bigger challenge and more satisfying. A gun takes luck, but a knife takes skill.

My love for knives goes back to my schoolgirl days. My grandfather, who served as my mentor, owned over 1000 knives. Perhaps you could call him a collector. He liked all sorts of macabre shit. I inherited all his medieval torture devices, as well as his knife collection and some death row chairs that I repurposed into castration chairs.

My grandpa gave me my first knife. He thought I might need it for protection. But I used it impulsively against this bully bitch who harassed me on my way home from school one day. And I guess I hit just the right place for her to bleed out almost instantly. Now I know where the arteries are located. I know how to prolong death. Knives give you a sort of control that a gun doesn’t. I can cut all over a body, avoiding all the major arteries. And when I get bored, I slice an artery and they die.

Each of My Knives Tells Me a Story and Reminds Me of My Kills

My grandpa covered up my first kill. And then he taught me how to become a great killer phone sex bitch. Essentially, he taught me how to get away with murder and when he died, I inherited over 1000 knives from him. But I already amassed quite the collection of my own. And every knife I own tells a story. Sometimes I go down into my dungeon, and I masturbate with one of the knives.

Now don’t misunderstand me. I’m not shoving that knife anywhere. I’m simply holding it and licking it so I can remember the kills associated with that knife. A lot of serial killers take trophies. However, my knives serve as my trophies. Once my tongue goes across that steel blade, I remember vividly each kill I committed with that knife. I relive it and it gives me sexual pleasure. What can I say? I’m a sick bitch.

But I love my knives. They serve as my souvenirs. All I need to do is hold a knife and the memories of all the kills tied to that knife come flooding back. Thanks to my grandpa. I’m a knife, yielding, sadistic phone sex bitch. And I can either use one of my knives on you to create another hot memory or I can let you use my knife on an unsuspecting young girl that we killing mutilate together. Your choice.

Beaten and bloody, making me help you ravage little one’s

Kidnapping phone sex

You’re a sick and twisted fuck, but so am I. I love the pain and pleasure just as much as you love to inflict it. Rushing at me with your eyes as black as the devil himself makes me cream my panties so I’m willing to go out of my way to do anything your broken black heart desires.

You harbor in so much hate for your mommy, beating you from the time you were born. Leaving you to take your rage on other young little one’s. What’s better than a sick torn up bitch to help you lure them in. Kidnapping these little cunts.

Everything I do, it’s to make you proud, bring puffy pink pussy all tied up and handled, ready for you to pound the fuck out.

I had these little bitch’s by the hair. Chaining them together down on a table for you to shred. I ripped off their clothes just leaving their bloody panties as you pulled them up their bungholes and took your sick and twisted rape fantasies out on them.

Caressing their little head telling them “it’s ok, he’s gonna put a load in” as their crying for mommy. Their whimpers made you a monster, tearing, shredding and ripping out their cherry’s as a god damn snack.

I’m so turned on watching the meat monster in you cum out, covering these scared little ho’s with bloody filled goey thick spunk.

Bloody Phone Sex Because I am a Gore Whore

bloody phone sexAs a horror movie junkie, I’m a fan of bloody phone sex. I like to make a mess. For me, I’m living my best life when I turn a simple murder into a gorefest. A guy once called me a gore whore, and I do believe that’s true. I’m very visual. And at the end of a kill, I seem most proud of myself when I’ve dismembered a victim, cut off his dick or sexually mutilated her junk and left nothing but blood, internal organs and sinew in my wake.

I’m a fan of over kill because overkill throws suspicion off me. Makes cops look closer to home for a personal motive. Overkill suggests familiarity not a random encounter. And that’s because overkill suggests rage. And normally folks do not get that sort of rage from a stranger.

When I murder somebody, I can control my rage. I don’t really feel rage for them. It’s more that I just like violence. And I like blood and guts. It’s not personal. The way I see it, I get rid of some asshole or bitch who the world will never really miss, and I get my blood and guts fix.

As a Gore Whore I Turn a Crime Scene into a Blood Fest

Over the weekend I killed a couple. A husband and wife who steal from the elderly to fund their drug habit. I got wind of them before the cops ever did. That’s because I listen to the chatter in chat rooms on the dark net and to people talking in public spaces. I did my research and quickly uncovered the couple. Sometimes I must do police work for the police.

Would the world miss two tweakers? I didn’t think so. So, I broke into their house on Saturday night. And I put them out of everybody’s misery. They start with robbing people for their addiction. But it will make them kill somebody someday. I verified that this couple was behind a slew of home invasions over the past year. I tied them to at least a dozen home invasions where elderly people lost their life savings.

Overkill Throws Suspicion Off Me

People who prey on the elderly for financial gain deserve death. And they deserve a very messy painful death. A trailer park couple with drug paraphernalia everywhere, I think the cops would assume this was a drug deal gone bad. I completely massacred the couple. Sexual mutilation. Excessive stab wounds and dismemberment. It would point to one of the cartels. But I don’t even think the cartels would worry about two tweakers.

But the amount of overkill I demonstrated in their brutal deaths will point to a more personal motive. I even used a chainsaw to take off their legs and arms. But I did that while they still breathed so they would feel it. And so, it would create a bloody massacre. Bodies don’t bleed the same if you dismember and cut them postmortem.

Normally I would prefer the torture sex to last all night if not even for days. However, this couple did live in a trailer park with neighbors so I couldn’t take all the time I wanted. But I did make it a gorefest for the time I did spend with them. And they felt it. They suffered. And they died. Actions have consequences. Even if the police don’t put two and two together, there might be some sadistic bitch like me who does. And what I do to somebody seems far more terrifying than prison.

Killer Phone Sex Fantasies Overwhelms Me Because So Many Folks Deserve to Die

killer phone sexWe all possess killer phone sex fantasies. And I believe in this modern age we live in those desires have only strengthened. Personally, I think I deserve some sort of award for not killing every motherfucker I meet daily. Too many fucking idiots and assholes exist. And most days I feel overwhelmed and not sure who to kill first.

Recently, a fellow Goth girl informed me that she encountered an online predator. Well, her daughter did. Her young teenage girl thought that the person she’d been chatting with went to her school. She got catfished by a much older man. And that much older man tried to kidnap her. But this girl knew how to handle herself thanks to her mother. So, she got away. But I started thinking about the next girl who wouldn’t be so lucky.

Despite having an exhaustive snuff sex list of who deserves to die, I put this online predator at the top of the list. And I set a honey trap. He’s not the only pervert who knows how to catfish. My young protégé, wanted to help me with this. So, I used her picture because I felt certain that a man like that would do his research and find out that she goes to the local high school.

This was our version of to catch a predator. When he showed up to meet her, of course he did not realize I laid in wait. We used my house, so we could easily get him into my torture chamber. I don’t know how many girls this man sexually assaulted. But when traced IP addresses, I realized he’s been doing this for a while. So, I plotted revenge for my friend’s daughter and all the other girls who did not escape him.

To Catch a Predator is My Favorite Game

He woke up in my castration chair. He deserved death. But I feel castration phone sex seems like the perfect revenge for a sexual predator. They will keep their urges, but they can no longer fulfill them because I neutered them. Well, this time, my protégé neutered him. I let her enjoy the honors. And she sexually carved up his junk with a rusty old blade. And she joked about how she hopes his dick gets gangrene and falls off. We both had a laugh at that one.

She eventually got to his balls and removed them. My protégé wants to start her own collection of severed balls. A reminder of her vigilantism and a reminder that she can use her murderous impulses for the greater good. And for us, the greater good always involves making the world safer for girls and women. Trust me. I killed and castrated men for less.

But I’m learning now that even if my kill list seems exhaustive, I always meet some loser who goes to the top of the list at hello. This pervert won’t go to the police because he’d have to admit what he’s done. He’d need to be honest about why any woman would want to castrate him. So, I own this ballless wonder now. And so does my young protégé.

I Prefer to Be Your Accomplice Phone Sex Partner

accomplice phone sexI love accomplice phone sex. My motto will always be that it feels better to be the accomplice than the victim. At least when I’m the accomplice, I make money and I leave unscathed. But I can’t say that about our victim. Charlie and I go back over a decade. This man used to do unspeakable things to me. As my sadistic master’s right-hand man, sometimes I served as the carrot master tangled in front of him to get him to do something he didn’t want to do.

Most women would avoid a man who abused them for years. And trust me, I thought about it. I thought about telling him to take his money and shove it up his ass. But the only reason I’m still walking and talking is because I’m scrappy. My street smarts keep me alive. So, I know not to piss off certain people like Charlie.

Him, and my former master parted ways. So, I decided to give Charlie a chance to see how he would behave without my master there. And it turned out he seemed just as afraid of my master as me. And he apologized for all the things he did to me back then.

When he offered me 10 grand to kidnap a schoolgirl for him, I took a chance on him. And I took the money. I knew there would be more to this than simple kidnapping phone sex.  Charlie proved he needed me. I’m the reason he can get access to a young schoolgirl to fuck.

I Prefer to Be the Accomplice Over the Victim

His time with my former master, gave him a love for those young brat pussies. But since he lacks a pussy and tits, young girls instinctively don’t trust him. He needs a woman to gain access to young girls.

Last night I kidnapped my 10th girl for him. And he’s paid me close to $1 million over the past two years. That makes him my most profitable client. So, I do whatever I need to do to keep Charlie happy. This time, I brought him something even younger. And I could tell he liked my choice of victims because the moment he laid eyes on her he popped wood in his jeans.

This girl thought she might get a modeling contract but instead she got a lot of dick and eventually death. Stupid girl. Not my fault she trusted a strange woman. I put that on her parents for not telling her that women can be evil bitches too. Charlie fucked this little girl into oblivion. Shredded her pussy with his tree trunk cock. It made her bleed bright crimson red blood as he popped her cherry.

And The Only Reason I Am Still Breathing is Because I am Scrappy

This little girl starred in a teen rape porn and didn’t even realize it. She saw our faces, so she needed to die. But not before I filmed Charlie fucking her into oblivion. Charlie enjoys those tight little holes. The kind of holes women my age no longer possess. But when you are a grown man with a big dick and you fuck a tiny young girl, that cock will do some damage. No way could we let her live. Charlie choked her out and I buried the body in the woods.

Another girl bites the dust. Some girls can survive the brutal attacks conducted by me and my clients. So, in a way I’m just thinning the herd. Only strong girls survive. I survived. And now I’m helping men like my father and like my former master fuck up some young pussies and asses. Maybe you want to be my client next. Who should we hunt for?

Shredded cuntie piss test on my face, brutal golden showers

Taboo phone sex

You’re a sadistic fuck. Perfect for my liking. The type of man that my mommy whored me to at such a young age. I was a little naughty shit that learned to endure and love the pain. So try me, look me right in the eyes and give me that dirty red look of blood anger and rage.

I look like such an adorable sweet thing don’t I? Cute blonde with a popping ass and great tits, you’d never know that I crave brutal raw beatings that leave me questioning life itself.

I love getting bent, and not just doggie, but grab me by my throat. Squeeze till I’m barely breathing and spread my legs by slapping the shit outa my ass. Shove your fingers inside my ass as your big burly danger dick shreds my creamy tight little bald cuntie. I’m throbbing and pulsating as you ram so hard, smashing my face into the wall. Demean me, make me feel like a pathetic worthless non dick worthy whore as you fuck the ever living shit outa me.

My snatch skin ripping and tearing apart. Fecal creamy goey cum running out of me, turn me the hell on. The more you choke me and cuss me out, the more I spew all over your dirty fucking dick.

Snuff phone sex

Pull out and make me taste it before you fill my insides. Make me pull on your balls so tight they turn bright red. I’ve gotta good grip on those dingleberries making them blue as you fill my cheeks with your meat.  “Turn the fuck over bitch” as you nut deep in my little torn pink pussy.

I’m screaming and creaming with fucking joy as you got another grip on my hair. “A bitch like you deserve to be pissed on” as your cum dripping cock hangs over my face. I deserve this, I crave this, playing with fire makes my itty bitty kitty squirt.

Demand that I open my mouth as you piss all over my face. Covering my body from head to toe, a demon filled golden shower to clean all the hell off of me.

Torture Sex Leads To My Ultimate, Devastating Bliss

First off, I crave the edge where pain twists into ecstasy. Ultimately, Torture sex is the greatest. With my body begging for torture that pushes me to the brink.

Tonight, in this shadowed room, my lover binds my wrists above my head with rough rope. In fact, the fibers bite into my skin as he tightens the knots.

Then he circles me like a predator, his eyes dark with hunger. Like a good whore, I arch my back, offering my naked form—breasts heaving, nipples already hard peaks aching for his touch.

Ultimately, he starts slow, trailing a leather whip across my thighs, then cracks it against my ass, the sting exploding like fire. Of course, I gasp, pussy clenching with wet need, juices dripping down my inner legs. But I still need more, ‘More,’ I whisper, my masochistic core throbbing.

Torture Sex is What I Crave

Undeniably, he obliges, lashing my back, each strike reddening my flesh, drawing thin lines of blood that trickle warm. Now, pain surges through me. However, it fuels my Snuff sex desires. With the heat building between my legs, I grind my hips against nothing, desperate for friction.

Next, he drops the whip and grabs my throat. With fingers digging into my windpipe, he laughs. Essentially, strangulation grips me, air cut off as he squeezes, my vision blurring at the edges.

Instinctively, I buck against him, lungs burning, but my clit pulses wildly. Finally, he forces two fingers into my soaking pussy, thrusting hard while choking me tighter.

Moreover, stars burst behind my eyes; asphyxiation heightens every sensation. Bringing my pussy clamping down on his invading digits as orgasm builds in suffocating waves.

‘You’re mine to break,’ he growls, releasing just enough for a ragged breath. Once that little bit of air is gasped in my lungs, he slams his cock into me.

Effectively, he pounds relentlessly, hand back on my neck, cutting off my air again. After all, strangulation phone sex is what I crave.

Now, I convulse, body on fire, the taboo thrill of snuff play making me wetter. Then he strangles harder, my face purpling, pussy spasming around his thick shaft as I cum violently. Ultimately, squirting over his balls. But he doesn’t stop. Simultaneously fucking through my blackout haze, until he floods me with hot seed. Now my final gasps,  a symphony of dark fantasies bliss.

Torture Sex

In this fantasy, death dances close, but release pulls me back—addicted to the torture that makes me alive.

Snuff Sex So Many Men Seem Deserving of These Days

snuff sexSome people seem more deserving of snuff sex than others. And I know I’m not a highly moral person. And by that I just mean, the people I kill maybe the average person would never murder. I used to suffer from an impulse disorder. If somebody pissed me off, I usually killed them on the spot. But that’s how you get caught. And my grandpa helped me with my impulse issues. Turned me into a highly skilled assassin essentially.

Now if somebody pisses me off, I don’t kill them. Well, I don’t kill them immediately. I let my anger fester for them, and I plot their demise so that I can get away with their murder. Few people have killed as many people as me. Now some of my kills I will admit men paid me. A sort of killer phone sex babe for hire sort of thing. But I’m being truthful. I’ve killed a lot more people for sport and revenge than I have for pay.

Charlie died last night. But only after 48 hours of torture. Don’t feel sorry for Charlie, he deserved it. A brat predator. He’s on that brat registry. I know I don’t really care that much about what men do to little girls because they just grow up to be bitches anyway for the most part. But this guy tried to force fuck a friend of mine’s baby sister. When she told me the details, I decided to plot Charlie’s cock and ball mutilation and death.

Men Rarely Ever Meet a Sicker Bitch Than Me

He spent 48 hours tied up in my basement to my castration chair. First thing I did was put hat pins in his worthless dick and balls. I guess, I used about 100 hat pins on his disgusting dick and balls. After that, I shaved the skin off his cock and balls with a razor blade. Very fine skin shavings and then I poured a bottle of alcohol on him. Not sure I ever heard a man scream like that before. But he deserved it for all the pain he’s inflicted on little girls over the years.

I didn’t just mutilate his junk either. But I also carved off his nipples. I burned his flesh. And I shoved a broken beer bottles up his asshole shredding him from the inside out. Castration turned out to be the least of his concerns. I mutilated and mangled his body. And I caused so much intense pain that he almost died of a heart attack. But I didn’t want him dying of natural causes. So eventually, I sliced open his femoral artery and watched him bleed out. I did that last act of torture sex outside in the wild so that the animals would smell the blood and eat him alive.

I’m a sick bitch. You don’t want to cross me either because I just get sicker with age. Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with my friends. And don’t mess with any of my friends’ loved ones either. Or you might die even a more heinous death than Charlie.

Killer phone sex with my knife and your big fat dick

Killer phone sexKiller phone sex, there are no limits. I have plenty of dark desires. But what constantly swirls in my twisted mind is fresh prey. Each innocent face is a canvas awaiting the macabre masterpiece I’ll paint with blood and lust.

Little bald pussies so good you want to devour!

I have a collection of blades, but my favorite is my twelve-inch hunting knife. It’s such a rush to penetrate the little cunts with it. I love the sound of the blood gushing out of their little fuck holes.

Blood is a great lubricant; it’s so warm when you slide in, and the stickiness makes the friction so good. Your cock in a tight, bloody pussy will make great footage. We are going to have fun making Snuff movies.

I want the last thing these little bitches feel is getting double dicked by you and my knife. We can do anything we want to these little brats. Each stroke of the blade, each thrust of the dick, will be choreographed to maximize the shock value, the horror, the sheer ecstasy of their depraved escapades.

 

You came to devour and show my daddy my dead meat

Kidnapping phone sex

At cheer practice I noticed you watching me, staring out through the bushes while I was jumping high, flipping and dancing. My snow white bubble butt popping as high as your demented bulge. Jerking your shaft, your moans echoing through out the school yard while we practiced. Sent by my daddy himself you had a nasty plan to take me out, rip me apart and show my daddy my shredded meat stack after you were threw with me.

Stalking me in the parking lot you finally grabbed me on my way to the locker room. Still in my uniform you pinned me against the back wall, ripping my little skirt and pulling my hair,  With one hand on my neck you unzipped your pants, pushed my little panties to the side and took your rape fantasies out on me. I couldn’t scream with your gag, your fat nubby beer can cock ripping up my insides. This all brining me back to when daddy would do me the same every night, turning me on my stomach and thrusting his meat up my ass, shoving my face into the pillow so mommy wouldn’t wake.

I prefer this kind of fucking, it’s what I’m used to, even better that daddy sent you to crumble my little milky cookie. With my head bleeding and beaten against the wall, my skirt up to my stomach, my uniform covered and soaked you brutally blasted me.

Beaten and bloody, hot tight cooter leaking fecal cum down my legs.

Bondage phone sex

Balls smacking against my ass while your digging for gold deep, cock tip hitting my stomach, telling me over and over “shut the fuck up bitch!”. Each spank and slap I start to quiver and shake pushing my tiny pocket soiled in bloody cum cooter into you.

With my team now watching me get humiliated by my daddy’s buddy in the back they began to laugh and point, playing with their clammy soiled twitching twats wishing they were the one’s getting bent. Exploding deep in my little cervix leaving me tight up, bloody and barely breathing.