Category: Knife play phone sex

Men with Rape Phone Sex Fantasies for Me Never Live

rape phone sex fantasiesMen who harbor rape phone sex fantasies for me never live. And if they do live, they live without their balls and sometimes even without their dicks. I think I spell it out very clearly in my blogs that I’m not some sex doll for you to use. I’m a dominant fucking bitch. And a sadistic one at that.

I’ve killed men for less than trying to force fuck me. Perhaps, you could say I possess Spider-Man senses. I always know when some pathetic little bitch boy tries to put something in my drink. Men never realize this, but they make a special kind of nail polish for women. And that nail polish changes colors when it encounters roofie drugs.

Of course, a woman invented that to keep other women safe. And in a way I’m a vigilante for women who I don’t even like. I’m not a clique kind of girl. So, I don’t really have a girl squad or anything. Perhaps you could say I’m equally mean to everyone. Something changed in the past year or so. Men feel more emblazoned to take what they want even when it’s not theirs to take.

Men Who Fantasize About Violating Me Never Live

Perhaps I just felt like killer phone sex. It didn’t take much this weekend for me to decide to kill a man. When I get in my murderous mood, I do my best to uphold a certain code. However, I am a less principled Dexter. I think even Dexter would agree Marcus deserved to die. Not only did I find Marcus on the brat offender list, but his rap sheet also appears to be at least a mile long. And it includes everything from armed robbery to drugs to sexual assault. Marcus might not have wronged me, but he rounded enough people to put him on my radar.

So, I hunted him this weekend and observed him in action. I observed a predator preying on drunk coeds. Now I’m not a fan of coeds in general. For the most part, they behave like rabid dogs. They would kill each other over a cute frat boy. Coeds seem self-absorbed, mean and shallow.

Marcus needed to go. Not necessarily because I wanted to champion drunk coeds. It’s just the principle of the matter. Taking advantage of drunk women, seems like a pussy move. Some men can only prey on women if they drug them because they can’t handle fighting a woman. My guess most women would neuter Marcus or at least punch him and kick him in the balls repeatedly trying to escape.

For Me, Its More About the Principle of the Matter. A Drugged Woman Does Not Equal a Fair Fight

I saw him putting something into a coed’s drink as I stood at the bar near them. So, I broke a glass to create a distraction and switched their drinks. Marcus became a sloppy drunk quickly, and I escorted him into my car and took him to my cabin in the woods where I mutilated his body. And tortured him for hours, eventually murdering him. But he deserved it. Actions have consequences.

When he woke up, he discovered himself naked, tied to a dining room table spread eagle with a castration band around his balls. And I told him what a dumb ass predator he was because he drank his own roofied drink. Even though I eventually killed this loser, he deserved castration phone sex first I wanted him to think he would survive, just without his balls. Perhaps you could say, I revoked his man card. He didn’t deserve his balls.

I am a Vigilante for Women I Despise

For hours, I carved up his flesh with various sharp instruments. I even carved off some of his flesh which I fed to my dogs and the wildlife nearby. Told you I’m a sick bitch. I enjoy torture. It feels empowering to torture a man like Marcus, who preys on the vulnerable. Honestly, my moral code does not appear close to Dexters. I didn’t really torture him and murder him to protect the future generation of women I could care less about. I hate vapid coeds. But I just felt like killing and torturing a man. And Marcus seemed the perfect mark.

Eventually, this predator died from the wounds I inflicted. And he died before I felt completely satisfied. Oops I did it again. Went a little too rough on him and killed him sooner than I wanted. But the wildlife behind my kill shack seemed excited for the food offering I gave them. Nature will always be the best accomplices when you need to get rid of a body. So, just remember, you can be my accomplice or my victim but if you try to make me your victim, you will be bear shit the next day.

Violent Phone Sex For Your Hard Cock

Every night when I get home from work, this random car is sitting near my driveway. I can’t see who’s in it since the windows are tinted, but I find that it’s extremely weird to just park on the curb with the headlights on. I thought about calling the cops to report the strange car, but I decided to just ignore it since it had only been a few days.

Saturday, I decided to hang out with my girlfriends at the bar. It had been a while since we all hung out. When I got home and pulled inside my driveway, all of a sudden I feel someone grab me from behind and cover my mouth with a thick cloth. I passed out for a few hours because the next thing I know, I’m waking up in this random basement. There’s all kind of dirty tools everywhere. I’m tied down on the table and I can’t move a muscle. He put something in my mouth because it’s stretched open with an object in between my teeth. A strange man with long stringy hair walks up to the table with a huge smile and a knife in his hand and say’s “I finally got your little pretty ass. You’re going to choke on this big fucking cock before I slit your throat!” I tried so hard to scream but I couldn’t he removes the gag from my mouth, and as soon as I try to scream, he chokes me, making it extremely hard for me to breath. He then shoves his dick in my mouth while his hand is still wrapped around my throat. I feel the tip of his head so deep, I couldn’t breathe. “Yeaaah, good girl.” He say’s as hee hold’s his head back. He removes his dick, and puts the gag back in my mouth. He say’s now, if you keep being a good girl, I may not kill you.” He rips my panties off and shoves his dick balls deep in my pussy. He yells out “yeesss! Take it you fucking pretty bitch!” He then takes the knife and stabs me in the stomach. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. I can’t do anything. I’m just bleeding out. He runs his fingers on my blood and rubs it on his face.

“You’re my pretty little bitch now.” He said as he jacks his dick and cums all over my face. Violent Phone Sex

Rape phone sex fantasies is my real fuck up world

Rape phone sex fantasiesRape phone sex fantasies is real life for me. I wake up every morning dreading the day ahead, knowing that I’m nothing more than a prop for my master daddy’s twisted “art.”

He is so d of his proud art, and my existence is a brutal, never-ending cycle of forced humiliation and suffering, designed to push me to the very limits of human endurance.

Every fiber of my being screams in protest as I’m dragged from my dingy cell.

I’m shackled and gagged, to be used and abused for the twisted pleasure of my Master Daddy and his depraved audience. As I’m forced to my knees, my master’s heavy boot crushes my face into the filthy floor.

He forces all sorts of strange cocks in me, and I choke and convulse. With tears streaming down my face as more thick cocks are rammed down my throat. My mind reels, the world spinning as I’m violated and defiled, my body a mere plaything for his sick desires.

I know I gotta let it all happen and put on a good show if I want to survive, no matter the cost. I’m always the last girl standing because I know how to endure his psychotic behaviors.

It’s unfathomable torment until my master declares me the winner. But I am always the last Snuff sex slave standing!

 

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.

Castration Phone Sex Teaches Women to Exact Revenge on Their Predators

castration phone sexWith castration phone sex, I sometimes don’t know where to begin. So many men do not deserve their dicks. But I’m just one woman. So, I had an idea. A rather brilliant idea. If there could be underground academies teaching men how to force fuck women, why can’t there be an underground academy teaching girls how to castrate predators?

Last month, that’s what I did. I started an online group on the Dark Web for victims of sexual predators. However, my group seems less focused on healing from their trauma and more focused on getting revenge. And I believe the punishment should fit the crime. When that crime involves exploring rape phone sex fantasies, I believe the fitting punishment is castration. If you can’t use it properly, you lose your privileges to use it at all.

My little underground therapy group took off instantly. And last night I met a girl for some practical experience. She lives 200 miles away, but that’s an easy drive for me. So, with my knife collection, I visited Teresa and we designed a plan to get back at her predatory uncle.

Fuck law enforcement. They almost never believe the woman, and it becomes a he said she said thing that can’t be proven. Why should girls put themselves through that. They don’t need to put themselves through all the questions and judgments. Not when women can take back what men stole from them.

If Men Can Have Online Academies Teaching Them How to Assault Women, I Can Have an Academy Teaching Women How to Exact Revenge

So, I helped Teresa castrate her uncle who violated her repeatedly for over a decade. Until one day, she just aged out for him. And I needed to seize the moment because Teresa seemed ready for revenge. She lured her uncle to us, and I strapped him down into a chair. Stripped him naked first. What a cocky son of a bitch. He should feel lucky I didn’t kill him. He started talking smack about both of us. And he even said women just need a good dick and someone to remove the sticks up their asses.

Even when my knife pressed against his balls, he didn’t believe two women could mutilate his junk. So, he got a rude wake up call. I wanted to take his nuts too. But in that situation, I served as the teacher. Teresa deserved to remove his balls. She remained calm and collected while telling him about his crimes against her. And when she took his balls, he bled so much. No way he’s getting his blood out of that carpet. Oops, I did it again.

I could see the look in Teresa’s eyes when she sliced his ball sack off. She felt good again. Happy. Removing his balls felt cathartic to her. Now, maybe she can move on from her trauma and really start to heal.

Sure, I know I’m breaking the law with my castration academy. But if men would just keep it in their pants or realize no means no, I wouldn’t need to teach girls extreme cock and ball torture sex. But since the law doesn’t seem to want to help these girls, I will. Although I know we can’t castrate all the predators in the world, we can neuter as many as we can.

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.

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.

Snuff Phone Sex Calls Often Involve Torture Too for Me

snuff phone sexI enjoy snuff phone sex calls. As a sexy accomplice and switch, sometimes I’m in charge of the killing. And it feels good to be the queen when that happens. I did a favor for a fellow stripper last night. And I did this gig for free. Hos before bros and all. She has an ex-boyfriend problem. An abusive piece of shit with a restraining order against him. However, that never stops him.

But I knew I could stop him. I could stop him permanently. And I sexually mutilated his junk along the way. I talked with my friend, and we set a honey trap. I let him think that I gave him the address of his ex-girlfriend. But it was my address. And she laid in wait as I did with knives hidden everywhere for our safety. When he arrived, he seemed shocked to see me. But then my fellow stripper, the object of his desire, came out from the bedroom.

We started kissing, making him horny and jealous. But that was part of our plan. Much easier to castrate a stiff dick than a limp one. And he deserved castration phone sex, maybe more than anybody I ever castrated before. Some men think they’re entitled to pussy. And some men think they own women. So, I enjoy giving men a wakeup call.

Men Do Not Get Away With Harassing My Friends

When I kissed him, I slipped a cock ring on to help keep him erect. He never saw me coming. I think he felt too horny to care about anything else than my hand on his dick. But the next thing he felt on his dick was a cool steel blade.

Sure, I could’ve gone for the nuts immediately. However, I wanted to savior the torture. So, I sliced the tip of his dick off instead. This guy would not survive the night anyway. I could slice and dice his junk all I wanted. He would never use it again. And he will never stalk or harass another woman again.

We spent a few hours slicing little parts of his dick off like we were cutting those little hotdog dogs and putting them into the baked beans. I said that my friend thought maybe we could feed the severed parts of his dick to my dogs. And my pups love hot dogs. Seeing the expression on this guy ‘s face as my dogs ate part of his dick turned me on. I can be a sick bitch when I want.

I Enjoy Castrating Men who Think They Own Women

Eventually, we grew tired of him and the torture sex of his junk. So, she took him out of his misery. With my hands on his throat, I squeezed as tightly as I could. His ex-girlfriend, my friend, sat on his face to smother him. We felt him take his last breath. And she helped me dismember him. We made a mess. But I watch enough movies. So, I knew I needed a tarp and a cadaver saw. And an interesting thing, once a person’s dead the blood doesn’t spill out their bodies like you would think.

We put his severed limbs into this big bag. And we buried them in the woods in different places. Chances of anybody finding all of him seemed slim to us. But he will never harass another one of my friends. Or any women for that matter. And don’t think for a second I won’t neuter you either if you get out of line. Castration is not just for stalkers.

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.