Category: Mutilation phone sex

Sometimes, I Dread Torture Phone Sex Calls

torture phone sexI often dread torture phone sex. Some of my callers possess sick minds. But then so do most men I meet. And I thought Derek might be different, but I should know better by now. He invited me to his place to party after the bar closed on Saturday night. I went to a more upscale bar this time because a friend of mine told me a lot of those young businessmen like to party and enjoy the company of a mature sexy woman.

Derek and I hit it off at the bar. He bought me fruity drinks all night and shared his cocaine at his private table too. He seemed generous with his money. And I thought going back to his place seemed safe. But he likely just put on an act to make me feel secure. Because when we got back to his place, it looked like some torture sex facility.

I saw sex swings and every BDSM equipment available. And this stuff decorated his penthouse suite. He did not feel ashamed for his kink. All his BDSM equipment seemed on display for the average person. And he promised me a big bag of cocaine if I let him use his new sex machine on me. He wanted to try it out on someone. He opened a closet and I saw the bricks of cocaine. Perhaps I came over to Pablo Escobar’s house.

I Should Learn No One is Safe

Honestly, I would have agreed to anything. I wanted my hands on his cocaine. And I told him I’d do anything he wanted if I could just have a brick. Perhaps, that serves as mistake number one. Never tell a stranger; never tell anybody, you’re willing to do anything for something. It shows desperateness and it makes you much more vulnerable to exploitation. Derek put me on his bed and introduced me to Lucy. This guy named his sex machine after his ex-wife.

But he didn’t start me off gradually. Well, in his mind he did because he made me suck it before I fucked it. Well, I didn’t fuck that machine. That machine fucked me. It went so fast in my mouth that I thought it might literally put a hole in the back of my head. And it almost did. I could taste the rubber and the smoke. Derek turned that machine up to its highest speed. And just when I thought that sex machine could not fuck me any harder, he made me bend over on the bed so it could fuck my pussy and ass.

Whatever Torture I Experience I Earn Coke to Forget About It

Thinking about that brick of cocaine got me through it. And the fact that I’ve done far worse and endured more pain and suffering in the past for less cocaine than a brick. This will give me a few months’ worth of cocaine and give my holes a chance to heal. At one point, that machine fucked me so hard I thought it might create another hole. This could’ve been snuff sex with anybody else. But for Derek, this served as entertainment. He got off watching his sex toy machine levitate this redheaded MILF off his bed.

I survived the night. But I do have skid marks on the inside of my pussy and ass. And I can still taste rubber in my mouth. However, he rewarded me with a brick of good shit to make me forget it all.

Gangbang Rape Porn Is The Best Destiny of Mine

Gangbang rape porn is my ultimate use. In fact is a pleasure I crave to endure such intense destruction. Every fiber in my body craves the destruction for sexual desires. In fact the darker the exploiting of my whore body, the better and more I crave it.

This perfect Barbie doll body? These perky fake tits, this tiny waist, this tight little ass? All of it was made to be used, abused, and ultimately ruined by as many cocks as possible.

Consequently, I’ve embraced my purpose as the strangulation til snuff do us part whore life. In essence, a goddess of fantasy rape disposal.
Surely, there’s something about that breathless edge. It’s the feeling of strong hands wrapping around my throat. All while a thick cock pounds into me—that makes my cunt drip.
Furthermore, I know most of you are stroking to the thought of watching me gasp and struggle while you take what you want. Ultimately, I give all, pay with my life.

Gangbang Rape Porn Isn’t Just a Fantasy

Additionally, gangbang rape fantasies aren’t just a fantasy for me—it’s my calling. Thoroughly, I crave being surrounded by hard, leaking dicks, all of them fighting to get inside my holes. Which led me to my Strangulation Phone Sex end.
Essentially, it’s that thought of being passed around like a worthless fuck doll that makes my clit throb. Moreover, I want to be stretched, filled, and broken until I can’t remember my own name.
Therefore, when you call me for snuff sex fantasies, understand that I’m not pretending. Truly, the mere idea of going out in a blaze of brutal, violent pleasure excites me to my very core. Ultimately, I want to feel my last orgasm while someone’s hands tighten around my throat. Meanwhile, my vision goes blurry as cock after cock empties inside of me.
Furthermore, I know I deserve it. This body was made for destruction, and honestly, anything less would be a waste. So call me, you sick fucks. Let’s explore how you’d ruin me, how you’d make my final moments the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
Ultimately, I’m Geneva, and I’m begging for it. Don’t disappoint me.
Gangbang rape porn

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.

Accomplice Phone Sex Fantasies Feel Cathartic to Me

accomplice phone sexAccomplice phone sex role plays I enjoy. And I think it appears obvious why. It’s better to be the accomplice than the victim any day. Accomplices live. The accomplice usually walks away from any situation unscathed and with money. And I’ve suffered decades of abuse, so it feels good to be the accomplice instead of a victim.

Last night I helped a woman get revenge on a serial predator. Her own uncle. This girl appeared to be college age. Half my age at least. Cute too. But I could tell in those eyes she’s been through some shit. Those dead eyes told a tragic story. And for decades, my eyes appeared the same too. So, I sat down and asked her to tell me all the details on her predatory uncle. It’s research for the job.

He started exploring his rape phone sex fantasies for his niece when she was super young. When she got older, he threatened to kill her baby sister if she said a word. Yeah, I told her I would do the job with pleasure. I wanted to help her kill her uncle because it would feel cathartic to me. Her uncle sounded just like my father. And I’ve yet to exact my revenge on him, but I’ve been practicing.

Feels Cathartic to Assist Younger Girls in the Killing of Predators

We set her uncle up. He thought he would be meeting his niece. Get this. He tried to blackmail her into bringing her baby sister. So, this loser thought he’d be meeting both of his nieces. We did this while my client’s parents went on a cruise. My client agreed to watch her sister for two weeks. So that gave us her house to kill her uncle. I drugged her baby sister so she would sleep through the night, and the screams would not wake her up. And he screamed like a bitch when I torture his junk.

That’s just what we did. We tortured her predatory uncle’s junk until it looked like raw hamburger meat. And we carved that worthless predatory dick and balls up better than a Christmas turkey. At one point I shoved my panties in his mouth because he screamed like such a bitch. Men can never handle the torture sex of their genitals. But her uncle didn’t deserve to keep them, and he didn’t deserve to live for his crimes. If we kept him breathing, he would assault her baby sister. Not on my watch.

I Enjoy Helping Women Get Revenge

We eventually killed him. I stabbed him right through the heart. My client looked him in his eyes as he took his last breath. And she said the look on his face, the shock that his own victim helped kill and torture him seemed worth it. Moments like that seem priceless.

And men never think women can become sadistic killers, thrill seekers, or revenge champions. Women plan out their murders. We are not impulsive killers. So, I think that makes us far more dangerous. Men never see us coming. I gave this young girl a college discount. Feels good to help other women. She can sleep at night and never worry about her baby sister. She’s safe now. They will never find his body. I buried him in a deep grave in the middle of the woods. I’ll do it all again because like I said, it felt cathartic to me. As I killed him, I just thought about dear old dad.

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.

Not All Snuff Movies are Simulated and I Know

snuff moviesMost snuff movies are simulated. Not real snuff. Real shit usually never gets uploaded to the Internet. It’s filmed on 8 mm reels and for private use. Obviously, the sort of snuff flicks. I did early on in my adult career were the simulated kind, or I would not be standing. However, in my career as an adult performer and a professional slave, I watched the real ones filmed more times and I can remember.

It used to make me sick to my stomach. And likely it still would, but I developed a coping mechanism. This world is truly survival of the fittest. And you can only survive if you’re scrappy and street smart. Luckily, I have both in droves. But the other night I helped a man make a real snuff porn.

And I can’t get it out of my head. Likely the most brutal thing I ever witnessed. And clearly, I’m complacent in this murder, even though I never laid a hand on the girl while she still could breathe. Perhaps you could say I sold my conscious to the devil for money. I didn’t do this gig because I wanted to. I did it because he paid me well.

This man seemed even more brutal than my former master or any of the men who hired me as their accomplice in the past. Although I did help find the girl, I did not know about his plans for her. I just found him a very young blonde little girl next-door type. When I brought her to the dungeon, he already set up the camera equipment and again I thought he would just explore his rape fantasies. He never mentioned killing her.

Some Snuff Flicks and Accomplice Gigs Tear Me Apart Inside

After he fucked her, he dismembered her. The cruelest torture I’ve ever witnessed. He started off slowly using gardening shears to clip her nipples off. He did the same to her clit. And he fucked her some more while her pussy bled. Then he used the same shears to clip off every finger and every toe. And I thought I might puke. Although I did go from victim to accomplice once I gained my freedom, I don’t always enjoy my assignments. This assignment tore me apart. But it literally tore the girl I kidnapped for him apart.

This man scared me. He masturbated as he continued to torture this girl and dismember her body. By the time he started cutting off her arms and legs, I think she either died or passed out from the loss of blood and pain. This turned out to be the worst torture sex I ever witnessed. And I needed to clean it all up for him. My hands are dirty and complicit in this one. So, I made sure to get rid of the body and all the evidence of a crime.

I just keep telling myself better her than me, right. Survival of the fittest mentality. But if I need to pay my bills, I guess I need to continue being an accomplice for hire.

Accomplice Phone Sex Hot Ass Search Continues

Accomplice Phone Sex, where I hunt relentlessly for my Master. Undeniably, I’m the perfect submissive pain whore. And I crave snuff play with every fiber of my twisted soul. First, I prowl college parties, zeroing in on tight young asses ripe for destruction.

Tonight, I spot a fresh-faced twink, barely legal, grinding on the dance floor. I flash my pierced tits and whisper filthy promises, leading him to the shadowed parking lot where Master waits. This teen rape porn is exactly what Jon craved.

Next, Master lunges from the darkness, zip-ties his wrists, and shoves him into the trunk. I drive us to the abandoned warehouse, my pussy throbbing in anticipation. Once inside, Master strips the boy naked, bends him over a filthy crate, and spreads those virgin cheeks wide. Next, I kneel submissively, hold the boy’s thighs apart, and watch Master hawk a glob of spit onto the quivering pucker.

Then, Master rams his veiny monster cock straight in, shredding the tight ring with one brutal thrust. The boy shrieks, blood oozing down his trembling legs. However, Master pistons deeper, pulverizing his guts. Eagerly, I assist, first pinching the boy’s balls until they bruise purple.

Accomplice Phone Sex For Jon, The Twink Boy Ruiner

Then, my own masochistic holes aching for Master’s later abuse. Meanwhile, Master chokes him with a belt, face bloating red as air cuts off.

After that, I mount the boy’s tongue, smothering his gasps with my sopping cunt. All  while Master accelerates, jackhammering the ravaged asshole into a gaping, meaty crater. Next, the boy convulses violently, eyes rolling back in snuff ecstasy.

Finally, Master bellows and erupts, hosing the dying rectum with thick spurts of cum mixed with gore. Ultimately, I lap up the overflow submissively, savoring the metallic tang.

Moreover, we film every tear, every rip for the ultimate insidious ass rape porn. Master rewards me with a savage whipping afterward, my pain whore body blooming in welts. I live for this—procuring young ass for Master’s deadly fucks. Who’s next on my list?

Accomplice phone sex

Home Invasion Phone Sex Is My Fantasy

Home Invasion Phone Sex I’m on the couch watching my favorite TV series late at night. Since I live alone, my TV is my therapeutic white noise.   All of a sudden I hear an extremely disturbing sound of glass breaking. It wakes me up immediately. I’m wearing nothing but my panties and bra so I jump up off the couch in a world of panic. “Who’s there?” I yell out as I’m fumbling to find my robe. I have no idea what to do. I’m not only scared, but I’m in panic because I have nothing to protect myself from this intruder. All of a sudden this 6ft, muscular image rushes towards me, wearing an all black ski mask and full black attire. Holding a pistol he yells, “Shut up and get down on the floor!” I’m in full panic mode. “Sir please! I don’t have any money, you can take anything!” I said as my body is shaking uncontrollably. “Do you really think I want this filthy crap that you own? I don’t want any of your chump change either.” He say’s in a tone of disgust. “Get down on your fucking knees you worthless bitch!”

All of a sudden he rips my bra off in excitement. He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at my big perky breast and my brown hard nipples. He lowers his gun as he see’s that my cries are getting softer. His hard dick is bulging through his black pants. He unzips his pants and pulls his hard, thick cock out and forces it down my throat. I’m gagging as tears roll down my eyes. He’s choking the fuck out of me. His eyes are rolling in the back of his head as he’s enjoying my wet mouth. “Yes baby, keep going you fucking whore!” He goes deeper and faster. I can sense that he can’t hold back anymore. He cums all over my face. “Yea you bitch!” Now get up and clean yourself up.”

I turn towards the couch, gather my bra and panties as I’m still crying. When I turn back around with hesitation, he disappears. I sigh with relief, slip into my bra and panties and head towards my room.  I actually enjoyed that fucking dick and wished that he cums again.

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.