Category: Mutilation phone sex

Bloddy Phone Sex Fantasies

 

bloody phonesex2I have always wondered what it would be like to be a man. It is an obsessive thought the fills my mind and consumes me often. a few nights ago I had a dream and I knew I had to live it out and finally I would be a man, well kind of. I set out and found myself a cute little couple. You know the innocent, new love in their eyes kind. All holding hands and googly eyed. Sickening really, but perfect for what I wanted to do. Befriending and drugging them to get them home was easier then ever. Watching them all drugged up and tied to either side of a huge tree, I sat sharpening my favorite set of knives. My cunt getting wetter by the minute waiting for them to come to and the games to begin. Finally their eyes began to flutter and my heart skipped a beat as my cunt lips released some it’s juices. Getting up I approached them and delighted at the terror in their eyes. “Will you do anything I ask?” the nod of confirmation was not a surprise. “Will you fuck him for me and cum all over his cock?” Again the nod of confirmation. Walking around I grabbed her face, kissing her hard on the lips while cutting her clothes off her body, making sure to draw blood. Standing there naked and afraid, shivering, I delighted in the sight of it all. I grabbed her cunt hard and spat in her face. “This is about to be stuffed full of his dick and you show me how much you enjoy every bit of it.” Going to her young lover I cut his clothes off as well, again making sure to draw blood. I then untied him, naked with a soft cock, we stood in front of her. I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth coaxing his cock until it was fully erect. Then I took a metal rod and shoved it all the way up his fucking pee hole insuring that it didn’t go soft again. His scream sent waves of erotic shots through my body. I lead him to the woods out of her site and there is where the fun began. I gutted him and skinned him and then literally crawled in his skin. Cutting off his hands so mine could be exposed I sewed the front of his body closed over my body, his dick still hard from the rod that was inserted in it, blood covering my naked body, my flesh touching the still warm inside of his flesh. I went to her then and untied her, fucking her hard with his cock. She was horrified and crying, but tried to act like she liked it in an effort to save her own skin (no pun intended) Of course it was futile. I took her life too and spent the night in his flesh, cumming over and over while I rubbed my cunt threw his skin with one hand and jacked his ever hard cock with the other.bloody phonesex1

Cutter

There’s something exhilarating about taking a razor blade to my wrist and slicing through the tender flesh. I fucking love to get off on rough sex. I fucking love self-mutilation because it makes me feel like I’m goddamn invincible. I’m always looking for a fight; tempt me, push me pussies . . . I need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze. I especially love torturing others. There’s nothing like the anguished screams of teens to fill a room with angst. Sexual mutilation is my favorite. Nothing beats the sickness. One time, I stitched a bitch’s pussy shut with a rusted sewing needle from my Mom’s old needlepointing kit in the garage. I used thick black yarn and beat her to the brink of death with a brick right in the head. I desperately kicked her ribs in and sewed her up like a puppet. She was so messed up by the time I started closing her holes up. No more dick in that little bitch, let me tell you. That sleazy ass whore wouldn’t be fucking anybody’s boyfriend anytime soon. Especially not MINE. That dumb little skank screamed like a banshee when I stitched her up, but the end result was fucking sick. I love my crazy mind . . . and you will too.

Maybe if I like you, I’ll show you a little bit of my mutilation magic using the slut of your choice. I’ll get a big ole knife or maybe a razor blade fresh from the shower, separated perfectly from the plastic handle and ready to slice deep. Then I’ll take her ass cheeks into my palms and give them a nice squeeze, getting them ready for my fun. We can always fuck her and fill her up with the thick white loads of creamy cum that mark a little whore, but we’ll need lots of spud. Get that hard cock and lube it up with her blood, baby. I’m going to make a nice pretty cut and carve my name . . . this stupid cunt will never forget who owns her ass. 

Torture Phone Sex with Cassandra: The Fears of a Clown

torture phone sexWhen I was a little girl, I was deathly afraid of clowns. I know it sounds ridiculous. Who is afraid of Bozo the Clown? But you see, my father terrorized me when I lived at home. He wanted his sweet girl scared and dependent on him at all times; so he filled the house with evil looking clowns. They were under my bed, lurking in my closet, hidden throughout the dark corners of the house. He somehow even made them move. In hindsight I know it is foolish, but my therapist said a fear of clowns is a common phobia called Coulrophobia. To this day I am still afraid of clowns. I thought I could trust my therapist with my secrets. I was wrong.

This morning I went for my weekly session with Dr. Sandage and he said he wanted to do some hypnotherapy to regress me back to my younger years in order to help me conquer my fear of clowns. I was listening to the sound of his soothing voice when all of a sudden the lights went off and I felt hands choking me. Then a ball gag was slipped in my mouth and my hands and feet were bound. Dr. Sandage was not alone. When the lights came back on, I was horrified to see a room full of evil looking clowns and my doctor dressed up like Pennywise from the Stephen King movie that made me pee my pants. I started crying and shivering. I was naked in front of my doctor and these evil clowns. I peed on myself in fear. This was not therapy. This was torture. Dr. Pennywise was hooking up electric wires to my breasts and my pussy lips. I couldn’t talk with the ball gag in my mouth. I was covered in red and blue just like a fucking clown.

Dr. Pennywise then started making me look at images of clowns and with every image I felt a shock ravage my body. It was a horrifying pain. This went on for hours. I was being tortured. There was nothing therapeutic about what was being done to me. I could smell my nipples burning from the shock. The smell of my own charred flesh made me vomit. I was forced to swallow my own vomit because of the ball gag. What the fuck kind of treatment was this. I was more horrified with every clown face. I was just getting more afraid. My breasts were turning purple from the constant electrodes. I was close to passing out when I saw this huge cattle prod. I smelled like vomit, pee and singed flesh. I had no fight in me left. I could barely moan. Dr. Pennywise and his evil assistant shoved that cattle prod right up my ass. The pain was excruciating. I started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. They fucked my ass with that cattle prod while making me watch It. By the time it was over, my body felt like jelly. All I could smell was vomit, piss, shit, burning flesh and blood. Oh and cum. I could smell cum because they jacked their dicks all over me, covering me in spunk. I was amazed I was still breathing. My heart rate felt shallow. I heard Dr Pennywise say, “Clean yourself up bitch. Therapy is over.”

He untied me, but he didn’t even give me a towel to clean myself up with. I was a weak hot mess. I did my best to get dressed and get out of that evil chamber, but I fell trying to get out the door from fatigue. Dr. Pennywise and his creepy assistant picked me up and tossed  me like human garbage onto the curb. I heard them say as I laid on the concrete scared and hurt, “Your’re cured whore.” Maybe, but I now have a terrifying fear of doctors.

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Does Taboo Phone Sex Scare You?

taboo phonesex angieI have so many lovely little items around my house that keep it nice and cozy. Things like my hand collection. Hands that I have severed from victims and placed in ant hills until the flesh is completely devoured by my little insect friends so that I can keep the skeletal remains forever. Or the beautiful lamps that I make that are lit and have severed body parts floating inside them. Or my wall of heads, skulls from previous victims that have been picked clean just like the hands and placed on display .I have always cherished my little chachkies and have kept them all to myself. However recently a very nosy, very annoying family has moved into the neighborhood. I decided it was time to teach them a lesson. I know it won’t take me any time at all to scare these fuckers right out of their house. Last night I put my plan in motion. I took one of my least favorite hands and slipped into their home while they slept. I placed it in the kitchen, in the garbage disposal so that in the morning they would find it. I plan to bury a skull next to the front walk tonight with the crown sticking out of the ground. Next they will find a beheaded chicken on the back porch. Things will gradually get worse until the final nail in the coffin. A black cat that I killed yesterday. I gutted it and shaved an inverted cross into it’s fur between it’s eyes. This wonderful trinket will be left in their bed while they are at work. Under the covers so that they don’t find it until they turn in for the night. I can keep this up for ever if I have to, but I believe after a few weeks of little surprises they will be more then ready to pack.taboo phone sex

Bloody Night

torture phonesex karma.JPGThe moon is full and bright tonight and I am out for blood. Watching her little body quiver and shake is just making it better. She has cried so much that now she is just sobbing. Her face is streaked with tears. Snot is dripping sown into her mouth and she has no choice but to let it. I am not wiping it off, in fact I am enjoying watching her. Soon I will skin the little cunt alive. Peeling flesh from her body slowly and cumming to her screams of pain and agony. I will be able to see everything clearly in this bright moon light. Let the torture, pain and festivities begin.

Castration Phone Sex with Reagan * My Uncle returns

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

My Uncle is a scum sucking pitiful hypocrite. Every word that comes out of his mouth is judgmental vomitous piss. I have cleaned more dignified phlegm off of my boots.

Growing up in my family was not filled with happy memories. I am sure I achieved my addiction to sadomasochism due to years of abuse. I learned quickly that love was something I was extremely disinterested in. I will not get into too much detail, but my Uncle hung around us rug-rats way too much. Being the youngest of five, I learned just how to avoid him if I could. He was drunk and on dope a lot. Most days a shower was the last thing on his agenda, and unfortunately his main agenda was to depredate my siblings.

It had been years since his memory contaminated my thoughts, than out of the blue there he was. I was surprised at how much rage I still contained for this piece of shit. He still smelled of piss, but I knew what had to be done. It was time to enjoy looking at his cock for once. I invited him in and let him believe that I loved my sweet old Uncle.

Once I had him downstairs, I bashed his head in when he was bent over to take off his pants. Ha! He thought I wanted his pathetic vomit? During that sweet moment of satisfaction, he moaned like a goddamned pig as I sliced the meat between his balls and cock, and in one swift moment his shame came out of his almost dilapidated dick.. spasm after spasm.. blood and cum.

He thought I was going to stop the bleeding I think, cause he begged me. Funny how the tables turn.

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

Such soft skin…

Magenta2

We make the perfect pair; the most dynamic duo this world has ever seen! Your charming good looks draw those poor, ignorant sluts in and by the time the sun rises we’re dancing among the crimson stained dungeon walls. I have no problem waiting for you to bring them back to me, I know how much the chase excites you. I can see the excitement in your eyes as you drag the little whore by her arms into the last space she’ll ever see. I can’t help but start to feel wet as you secure her to the metal exam table in the middle of our little sanctum. Poor thing; she has no idea that no one will ever hear her screams through the soundproof walls. Why don’t you sit back and watch; you worked so hard to acquire the little tramp and you deserve spectacular show for all your hard work and planning. The excitement in your eyes grows as I slowly take a scalpel from the instrument tray and begin to slice the girls smooth, flat stomach… Her skin is so soft that my scalpel glides through it like soft, warm butter. I would love to hear your thoughts on our latest little specimen, we have as long as we want with her after all.

Blair Meets the Puppetmaster

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Help me. I have been kidnapped by a deranged doll maker. I have been held captive for days , while he conducts evil, painful experiments on me. He has deprived me of food and water.  And, I am constantly in some form of suspension like a life size marionette doll. In fact, he told me I was doll like and he wanted to use me to create the perfect life size marionette. What the fuck? Those dolls are creepy. Always in horror movies, taunting people, scaring brats. Who does this guy think he is? The Dr. Frankenstein of dolls? I tried to beg and plead with him, but he keeps shocking me and stringing me up from the ceiling. He said next he was gonna cut my limbs and sew string through them and even slice my mouth open like the Joker to give me the authentic look of a marionette doll. He is gonna dismember and torture me so he can have his own personal creepy ass doll. Who is he, The Puppetmaster?  This sick, evil, sadistic mother fucker is enjoying my pain, my screams, my starvation. He says I’m just a stupid, worthless cunt and no one will miss me.  He says all girls should be seen but never heard and that is why we make the perfect dolls. You don’t agree with him , do you? Please someone help me.  Anyone. I will be a good girl; I will be quiet. You can do whatever you want to me, just let me live and get me the fuck out of this house of horrors.

Killer Phone Sex with Blair: The Legend of the Hook Man

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My best friend called me to tell me she had heard a news flash about an escaped mental patient from the nearby insane asylum. According to the news, he has a hook for one of his hands and is considered unstable and highly dangerous. He had been in Briarwood for 40 years for killing young couples being naughty in cars on lookout point. I told Sherri that was pure urban legend and she had just been punked by someone. I insisted I was fine and not scared. I was not going to let some silly practical joker prevent me from a hot date with my youngest son. I was driving out to our local lovers’ lane to meet him. My husband is home so we can’t fuck in my bed tonight; we were both so horny we decided to fuck in our town’s little lovers’ lane area under the moonlight.

I get there early and he is not there yet, which is odd. He is usually waiting for me naked. I try to text him, but I have no cell reception. Suddenly, I hear a loud thumping on the roof of my car. I’m thinking, my son is trying to scare me. I get out the car, and I’m horrified to see a man with a hook, sitting on the roof of my car with what appears to be a severed head. I scream and start to run, but he throws the head at me, knocking me down. Oh my god, the head belongs to my baby boy. I’m in shock, crying hysterically. I even vomit. I try to get up, when I feel this intense pain in my back and blood trickling down my spine. I’ve been impaled with the hook and this mad man is dragging me through the mud and grass like a dead deer. I can barely move the pain is unbearable. As he is dragging me, my flesh is getting ripped from my body; I’m starting to choke on my own blood; and I’m getting cut further by rocks and glass on the ground. I start praying I will die soon; and be with my lover, my son.

But, no; I am not as lucky as my son to be dead. This crazed hook man drags me into a little cabin hidden in the woods and ties me to a rack. Already bleeding and near death, he begins to taunt me with his nasty hook. He never says a word to me, but scrapes his hook on the wall creating a horrible sound. I actually peed on myself because I was that scared. He is impervious to my screams, my pleas, my tears. I can’t get him to release me, or tell me why? Suddenly, he leaves the room and for a moment and I think I reached him; he is gonna spare my life. No.  He comes right back with some torture device, flips me over this saw horse looking thing and starts anally torturing me. Then he starts cutting me with his hook. The pain was unbearable. I kept coming in and out of consciousness. Then, the coup d’état; he shoves the hook up my pussy, turning it as he shoved it in me deeper and deeper. He is scraping my insides, gutting me like a pig through my pussy and ass. I lay there like an animal just killed; bleeding on the floor, feeling my insides pool on the ground below me, gasping for my last breath, dying a slow and painful death.

I should have listened to my best friend. The Hook Man is real, so very very real….killer phone sex torture murder

Torture Phone Sex: Burn Cassandra Burn

torture phone sex submissive pain whoreI have been a pain slut for as long as I can remember. I started young as a cutter, and then graduated to more extreme measures as I grew older. But something I have never been able to handle is fire of any sorts. I have this new master who smokes cigars. Very high end Cuban stogies he gets from Canada. Well he left me alone for a little while this morning and I couldn’t help myself, I had to try one of his cigars. I mean a Cuban cigar is illegal in the US because of some stupid embargo. OMG, it was smooth with such a full bodied taste. I can see why they are coveted and smuggled into the country. Well I got lost puffing on that Havana and masturbating because it tasted so good. I look up and Master is in the door way livid. He lunged at me, grabbed my throat and threw me on the ground. He started kicking me and spitting on me and called me a worthless thieving whore. I tried to apologize; saying a Cuban cigar is something I was always curious about. That was not the right thing to say. He made me get back up on the bed and take the stogie and smoke it the other way. I had to put my lips and puff on the glowing embers. My lips, my tongue were burning; I could smell the flesh, feel the pain. As I was starting to cry, he made me deep throat that lit stogie like a cock. It burned the back of my throat. I could feel the fire in my mouth; I began choking on the blood and the flesh that was melting in my mouth, when Master ordered me to swallow it. I shook my head, tears in my eyes, blood running out my mouth, gagging on the smell of seared flesh, when he slapped me so hard, I swallowed the burning cigar. The pain was inconceivable. I could feel the burning sensation traveling down my esophagus. The smell of my burnt flesh was waffling through my nose. I thought I was going to vomit. My stomach was on fire. I could almost see a hellfire glow through my belly.

I thought he was done torturing me, but said the fun had just begun. I was a dirty stupid cunt who couldn’t keep her hands to herself and needed to be taught a lesson. I was laying there sick, and in so much pain, when he came at me with a big fat lit stogie and started burning the word thief across my breasts. I was being branded, slowly and painfully so I would never forget what happens to thieves. I knew better than to cry or beg for mercy. But it was hard to not scream as my flesh was melting off my body. He had more in store for me too. He tied my burning body up over the bed and double penetrated me with burning cigars. I have had a lot of things in my ass and cunt but never a lit stogie. My ass and pussy were branded for life. I could feel my insides melting and burning. My skin was scorched from head to toe. It was a sweet, acrid, lingers in-your-nose-forever charcoal smell. It’s a smell so strong that I could taste it. The smell and taste of my own charred flesh was the worse smell ever.

There was not an orifice or area of flesh my Master did not burn me with a stogie to teach me a lesson. My pretty alabaster skin is forever ruined. I am scarred for life and will forever carry the singe marks of shame for smoking my Master’s Cuban cigar. Yet somehow, through the horrible pain, I was aroused. Maybe, you would like to be my new Master? Find some painful, degrading way to arouse me? My pain, as always, is my Master’s pleasure.

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