Category: Mutilation phone sex

Accomplice phone sex with the Mortician of Souls

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I got called in for an emergency; some old man had died and his wife demanded that he be embalmed and the funeral happen in 24-hours, which is not usual. I laughed and thought that the broad had probably gotten tired of his ass and killed him. Sure enough, when she showed up, she didn’t look like a widow: she had on a tight pink dress that showed her ample and fake cleavage. I overheard her talking about how her husband had left a note that all of this should take place A.S.A.P. because he didn’t want her to suffer through the loss longer than she had to. She had a dyke accompanying her, and I believe that was the real reason for the hurry.

I embalmed the stupid son-of-a-bitch; and, I caught a glimpse of why he died…poisoning. I wasn’t surprised, and I would have just let it go, but I thought of something better. I worked extra-hard and got him prepped in no time; then, I left but re-entered through the back. I had laced her sparkling water and waited for her to approve the body. She walked in and stood in horror; I had propped her deceased husband up, eyes open, and posed in a relaxed state. With the lighting, he looked like he was waiting on her. I jammed a cloth in her mouth before she started screaming; and, then, I laid her on my table. I told my boss that she had left and I returned to my victim, who was completely conscious now.

Happily I traced a pen around her breasts where I’m sure the incisions had been made for her breast augmentation. I carved out the flesh and then played with them in front of her, flicking the nipples. It was the best puppet show as the stupid bitch started to lose consciousness…but not before I slit her pretty little face and held a mirror up for her to see. Her last moments were looking at her own mutilated body and screaming; then, I took a picture of her holding a pair of scissors above her ripped torso. She had, after all, done this to herself! 

I put the breasts in the coffin, under the pillows of the old man; I thought he’d appreciate that gesture. Then, I buried the bitch in an animal graveyard. Poor thing left a note…that she had felt so sad about her husband’s death that she wouldn’t need any of the money and was disappearing to grieve; no one mentioned that the handwriting didn’t look like hers. Hahaha!

Silent Night, Bloody Night

torture phonesex angieOne of my all time favorite horror flicks is Silent Night, Bloody Night. One line from the movie moves me beyond my evil darkness.  “I have wandered in bitterness until all seasons have become as one. And that is a season of vengeance.”

Vengeance, a dish served cold, ice cold, straight from the freezer. It has taken me almost six months to prepare for my own special form of vengeance and the title of this film fits perfectly with my plan. I have set up a lane in my basement. At the end of it I have a created a bondage set up to hold ten of my worst enemies in the formation of bowling pins. The shackles are designed to hold each onus’s arms high in the air and will put them on their tip toes. I finally perfected my “bowling balls” . Skill saw bladed bowling balls specially designed to slice and dice. My human bowling pins will start in the standing position. Once I have hit a pin or several pins, I will lower them, gradually slicing and dicing them until they are laying on the lane completely helpless waiting for that one roll that will end the pain and madness.   

malum medicum

If you’ve ever seen the bone chilling German horror film Anatomie (2000), you know just how fun playing Doctor can be. I was so inspired by this cinematic masterpiece, I decided to fuck up a bitch to honor it. For the surgical suture I had planned, my thread was chosen carefully. Black, strong, medical-grade sewing thread. I was going to disinfect it but decided against it. Dipping it in alcohol would prevent infection during a real surgery…but this was just an innocent game…make-believe play.

I belted my torture pet in and strapped her to the gurney while the chloroform was still swimming in her nostrils. The girl was precious: raven black hair, long and braided evenly on both sides. Unmarred, tanned skin without markings or blemishes. I couldn’t wait to spill her blood and ruin her holes as an outlet for my never-ending rage. I wanted to split her very being open and pull out her organs, fondle her heart & twist her own digestive track around her neck like a pretty little scarf. Take her apart from the inside out and sew her back up again.

She was naked, bared to my sight and exposed before me. A puff of black pubic hair between her legs. Delicate, pinkish nipples and soft skin everywhere. Stretched out, spread eagle, I fingered her limbs and cackled with glee. So happy to be ruining such a beautiful creation of God’s. While I loath them entirely, I do enjoy destroying them. My hand reached for a scalpel and pressed into her sensitive flesh as I sliced through her left tit. Such a glorious spillage of fat globules and an interesting pool of a substance I can only liken to phlegm gushed out. I leant down and lapped it up like a starved animal. Tasting my victims is my favorite part of the job. She began to stir and I knew that she was waking up. Perfect. My wolfish grin was dangerous and sharp as I stared down at her. She began to moan softly as the pain hit her–that pain she’d escaped while unconscious. “Hello,” I greeted her capriciously as she blinked awake. “The two of us are gonna have a lot of fun together.”

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.

Freak show human doll annihilation

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We sold tickets and rented a pavilion to showcase our creation.  Our theatrical stage was perfect and we paraded the demented young monster-girl around the room, allowing anyone to prod, kick, or fuck her before strapping her to a table.  She did not even look human with her warped figure, large breasts and ass, relocated nipples, and asymmetrical limbs.  First, we made her watch porn of young ones who were beautiful, getting fucked liked like she never would…living a happy life that she never could.  She cried as the audience laughed and gawked at her.

Now was the time for me to give my surprise to my accomplice: I picked up an electric sander and grinned.  Gently moving it toward her cunt, the audience was instantaneously excited.  I pressed the unforgiving machine against her fragile clit…and then fiercely.  The freak screamed as blood jutted forth.  I caught glimpses of my partner’s approval while I continued to mutilate our creation.

Next, my partner chose a drill to gauge out her eyes.  The blood was gorgeous, and all that was left were sockets.  He paused and pissed in those red holes as our monster continued to snarl, unable to speak because we had constructed her mouth to stay wide open at all times.

I used my favorite knife to carve messages in her skin, such as “It’s all your fault” and “Ugly whore-freak.”  My partner enjoyed this touch of sadism and laughed.  He plunged his thick, erect cock down her throat; and we could see it move beneath the skin.  I took a stick and shoved it ruthlessly up her asshole, tearing at the tender flesh.

Her sores were beginning to ooze infection as we continued.  We encouraged any of our audience members to piss, fuck, or defecate on her sores.  I took great enjoyment when one of the participants slid his dick inside of the wound on her chest, where her nipple was barely attached.

Finally, it was time: I crawled on top of the table, slit the freak’s throat.  She began to make those beautiful gargling sounds with blood…and my accomplice fucked the slice on her throat until her head, barely attached, rolled to the ground.  We cut her limbs up and served them to our audience to do as they chose.

Freak show human doll creation

Violent phone sex

My accomplice devised this wicked scenario and asked me to join in the fun. We kidnapped a young girl and took her to a special surgical underworld. The doctors cosmetically altered her to make her look wonderfully freakish at our command.

We had her breasts enlarged to the size of cantaloupes on her small body; then, we relocated her nipples so that they were not centered. One was even hanging off the side of her massive breast! Then, my partner had her teeth removed so that her mouth was entirely gums; I requested that she have bones reconstructed to keep her mouth open at all times. Her face would be in the shape of a constant “O” like a fish. We both agreed this would be attractive for men who wanted blowjobs. And, we made sure that her limbs were broken and reconstructed to not match in length.

We debated about creating malformed penises out of her clit, but I persuaded my partner to be patient; I had a gift that I wanted to give him later where this was concerned. We added concrete to her buttocks to make her look absolutely ridiculous. All the while, we were taunting her, reminding her, “This is all of your fault. You will never be like the pretty girls.” We mocked her as she stayed relatively conscious with little to no pain medication.
When it was complete, we walked her around on a leash. We took her to porn stores, where we paraded her and kept her in the back room for guys to fuck unmercifully. And, they did: they fucked her holes raw until they were just pieces of meat. Then, we would make her lick up all of the cum on the sticky, filthy floor. And, her open mouth was a perfect urinal.

But, the real fun was just about to begin!

Watching and Waiting

torture phonesex karmaWalking through he woods I hear a wicked laugh. It is deep and dark and it sends a delicious chill up my spine. Following the sound I take care to be extra quiet. Whatever is going on I don’t want it to be known that I am there. Slowly I creep closer and the sound of that laughter filled with evil sets my skin on fire. My cunt is reacting and I can’t control it. I haven’t even seen who is laughing or at what and my skin is covered in goose bumps. Finally I am close enough to see and there in the clearing is this man, He is tall and pale skinned, His hair is slicked back and dark as night. I can’t see his face but in his hand is a bloody knife and at his feet is a young one,. She is covered in blood and what little flesh is showing is pale. Her breathing is shallow and there is a gag in her mouth. He lifts the knife to his lips and licks it laughing as the flavor delights him. He slowly lowers it to her body and begins to peel the skin off her inner thighs, slowly, meticulously, not going to deep. I can see her body quiver from the pain and his laugh once again fills the air. My cunt is convulsing now, pumping cum all down the inside of my leg. I stand there and watch him for a long time, his torture so artistically administered. I struggle with the idea of making my presence known when he is done. Instead I follow him and I know I will make it a point to meet him soon and share the love of sadistic torture of the young and innocent.

My evil beginnings

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One of my favorite poets named Anthony Hecht said, “It doesn’t seem to me strange that little ones should like the macabre, the sensational, and the forbidden.” I wish my parents would have felt the same way. But, they didn’t. Instead, they pushed me around different mental wards, physically reprimanded me, and whatever they thought was best. The irony is that those experiences only helped intensify the darkness inside of me and gave me ingenious ideas about how to torture my future victims.

For instance, in the ward, I met this young girl who was about my age. She was crazy, but I still found ways that I could learn from her. She would slash her wrists and write messages on the wall. But what I remember most is this one time that she had to go to a funeral. She was able to choose one “friend,” and she chose me, probably because most young people and grown-ups were scared of me.

So, we got to the funeral; instead of sitting with her family members, she walked directly to the front and examined the body with curiosity. With determination, she lifted her small body above the coffin and to the corpse. She opened the dead old woman’s mouth, grabbed her tongue between her little fingers, and produced a pair of scissors. I don’t know where she was able to get the scissors, but it seemed that she had a plan: she cut off the purple tongue and without blinking put it in her pocket. She closed the old woman’s mouth and turned around.

I don’t know if anyone saw what she did; but no one did anything except rip the scissors away from her hand. Maybe all the grown-ups were too busy morning, or whatever they do; or maybe they knew that they couldn’t do anything about the crazy girl and just pretended that it didn’t happen. Regardless, at that moment, I felt a sisterly bond with the girl. She was one of the first to give me the courage to embrace the dark side inside of me, and to help it grow. From time to time, she’d take out the tongue at the ward and we’d both look at it, poke at it, smell it. I was the first to lick it; and she giggled. I still wonder if anyone took the tongue away from her; why would they, what could they do with it? After all, how could they appreciate such a thing of beauty, this mutilated tongue?

Crash: Part Two

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I took the opportunity to go look at the brat and woman more closely; I wondered if they were truly dead.  Everyone took for granted that they would be…or would be soon.  The brat was making gurgling noises in the back of its throat, choking on its own worthless blood.  I wouldn’t mind hacking the body up a bit more, I thought; but, my attention was caught by a shadowy figure above me.  She was blonde and had a leg brace.  “I did that crash, but I survived.  Only got it half right,” she said and motioned to her prosthetic leg.  She was pretty, and I thought she would look even prettier on my mortuary table.

I seduced her into returning home with me.  She was easy to coax into my dungeon, curious at everything.  She instinctively hobbled onto the table, and undressed; yes, I liked her.  When I came closer, she kissed me and I felt a sexual sensation run through my veins.  She took off her brace…and seemed, again, to read my mind.  “Cut it open,” she whispered and kissed me again.  I peeled back the flesh with a knife and stuck my fingers into her open wound.  She reclined and watched as I jabbed my fingers into the open hole, blood spurting everywhere.  She moaned and seemed to cum; and, uncharacteristically, I bandaged her back up.  I wanted to know more about her…before doing away with her completely.  But, I already had a plan for decapitating her and kicking her head around the field where the crashes took place.

Crash: Part One

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One of my friends told me that I had to see this underground scene where people are obsessed with famous car crashes and recreate them. But, the beauty, he said, was that they recreate them with authenticity…which means that real people die in them! I was fascinated.

When we arrived, I met this guy who had scars all over his face and body; he was proud of them, letting me touch them. He seemed to get a sexual thrill out of me touching and admiring them. One especially long scar was on his chest; it was almost over an inch wide, and it must have been one gorgeous gash when it happened. I would have liked to put my finger in that bloody tissue before they’d sewn it up. I scratched my long nails against it, smiling with excitement, thinking I might get the chance to do that later.

The show was about to begin. I could see a mother and her daughter crawl into the front seat of one; and, a drunk guy crawled into the other car. The game was on: two older cars (that had no significance to me because I wasn’t born before the significant crash happened) revved up their engines. The crowd hooped and hollered. I felt like I had found kindred spirits.

When the cars collided, the sound of bent metal permeated the air; smoke, gasoline hung close. The little brat was ejected out of the car like a cannon ball. The bloody small body lay only a few feet away from us; I was compelled to walk over to it, but I was also enjoying the woman stagger out of the car. Her face was bloody and people began to clap once she slung her one leg out of the car. Apparently, she had succeeded perfectly with amputating one of her legs during the crash. She walked a pace or two and fell over, presumably dead from the gushing blood. The drunk guy emerged with blood to his head but a bottle of beer in his hand. Everyone applauded and my thirst for blood and violence was far from clenched…