Category: Mutilation phone sex

Evil Phone Sex Proves Therapeutic to Me

evil phone sexSomebody told me once that I look like an angel, but I harbor an evil phone sex bitch inside of me. Perhaps that seems like a true statement. And in more recent years, I have become more confident and more dominant. I’m still a switch. However, I still feel all this rage inside of me over my upbringing. And I channel that rage into others.

Mostly women, well young girls, because men hire me for their age play needs. They understand a mature woman can lure a young girl away from her home and friends much easier than a man.

But the only woman I’ve ever felt rage for would be my mother who left me with my piece of shit father knowing he would likely abuse me the moment she left. But young girls don’t really enrage me. When I serve them up to men like my father it’s pretty much survival of the fittest. And I do it for money.

Not Every Man Wants to Keep His Balls

However, when men hire me for castration phone sex, I feel invigorated. It gives me a chance to get out some of that rage on some loser with a tiny dick and worthless balls. I never show men sympathy like I do young girls. Perhaps that’s because I can relate to the young girls because I’ve been in their shoes before. But I never identify with men who like to abuse young girls. I just keep my mouth shut and do the job they hired me for and take my money to the bank.

But recently, I discovered that I enjoy cock and ball torture. Men in the club started hiring me for the VIP room to trample their cocks or kick them in the balls. And I found it therapeutic. Perhaps, the word got around that I like cock and ball torture, and now men pay me to do a lot more than just dance on their junk.

Joe hired me to castrate him. He’s what we would call a predator. He even needs to register on the sex offender list because he got in trouble with a young girl many years ago. I view him as weak with no self-control. So, he thought he could stay out of prison, where he would be murdered for his love of young girls, if he hired me to castrate him. He might still possess the urge for young girls, but he’d never be able to act on it ever again.

Castration and Cock and Ball Torture Feel Therapeutic to Me

So, he came over last night and I castrated him. I used castration bands on him. That’s what they use for sheep and cattle on farms. Serves as a chemical castration. You put them on tight enough, and it cuts the circulation off. Eventually, the balls shrivel up and become useless. But you could also snip the balls off too with little bloodshed and just cauterize the wound. I went that route.

But I kicked him in the balls a few times for shits and giggles. Did a little dance in my stilettos on his cock. He does like cock and ball torture sex, so I made sure he got some. Clean castration. He paid me well for the removal of his balls. Minimal damage. But I did get out some much needed rage on his balls. And it felt amazing. Therapeutic. And I felt like I did a good thing because I took one more predator out of the game.

Mutilation Phone Sex Left Me Carved Up Like a Holiday Ham

mutilation phone sexMutilation phone sex left me butchered. I don’t tend to think things through completely. I see ads on the dark net all the time looking for models for various snuff type photo shoots or films. But I only focus on the amount of money they plan to pay me. I never read the fine print about the possibility of bodily harm or even death.

So, when I saw the pay for a day’s work, I skipped reading the rest. I wrongly assumed I signed up for another snuff movie of some sort. But what I honestly signed up for turned out to be more of a butchering photo shoot. They wanted to carve me up like a Thanksgiving ham. However, they assumed I understood the risks. But I did not truly understand until a man came out of another room with a bunch of knives and an executioner’s mask on. I almost pissed myself.

What did I get myself into once again, ran through my head. He held a variety of knives, and they all looked very sharp. Oh boy, here we go again, I thought to myself. I might not survive this one or I might be permanently scarred from knife play phone sex. Luckily, I can photoshop a lot of my scars away. The executioner guy kept telling me not to tremble because he could slice an artery. But that did not do anything to relax my mind. It just sent me into a spiral of fear.

I Consider Myself More of a Druggy Whore Than a Pain Slut

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate extremely hard on anything, but what he would do to me. So, I could feel the knives slicing my flesh. And I just tried to stay focused on my happy place. Luckily, I did my last bit of blow before he strapped me to this cold slab. Minutes felt like hours. I could feel my crimson blood flowing down my mutilated flesh. But I stayed focused in my mind. Telling myself I can get through anything.

I’ve been through a lot in my life. Perhaps most people look at me as a pain slut. I see it a bit differently. I’m a drug addicted whore, who puts herself in dangerous situations for a fix. I don’t sign up for this shit because I like pain. Pain just helps me earn money to buy cocaine. So, I view myself more as a druggie whore than a pain slut. However, my threshold for pain gets better every time.

This felt like pure torture sex. And I suppose the director aimed for that. No doubt the world contains plenty of men who love to see a mother butchered like that. By the time the session concluded, I looked like I walked off a horror movie set. But the blood on my body was not make up. Tiny cuts covered my flesh. Luckily, they never touched my face. And with winter, I can get away with long sleeves and pants until my wounds heal. When will I ever learn?

Sex with dead bodies, a special treat for a good slave

Sex with dead bodies Sex with dead bodies is really intense! Lots of folks think snuff is just some conspiracy theory. But it’s not, and the motherfuckers who are into it are scary as hell!

They like to fuck, kill, fuck, in that order!

My Master is the scariest. He has a taste for all kinds of things, and cold, dead flesh is a passion. He has a lot of money and can make anyone disappear. The reason why I’m still alive is that I learned real quick what he expected. But he also refined my palette.

So here is this helpless little slave, way younger than me, and no one will look for her. My Master doesn’t need an island for his girls because most of them end up in the incinerator.
He likes to play Doctor. So, as his helpful nurse, I have her splayed out on the slab.

She’s crying, cold and naked. She knows it’s just a matter of time before he is done with her. When he records his Snuff sex sessions, he likes to draw it out, and it’s already been hours of playtime with her.

He cut off her clothes and inspected every inch of her naked body. He got really hard when he stuck a whole bunch of needles in her.

Then he made the order. I had to insert a special speculum into her. It’s a terrifying piece of equipment. There are these little sharp spikes that stick out on the outside. He designed it himself. So when I put it in her pussy, those little spikes dig in her flesh.

I open her up with it, blood gushing everywhere. She has passed out, trying to escape the pain. But when he sticks his dick in her with that speculum, she screams herself awake. I think it’s the blood loss that killed her. There was so much of it just pouring out of her.

Since she was dead, he made me ride her. I ground my pussy on her bloody gash. I hate to admit it because of how evil it is, but I come so hard when I am scissor fucking a corpse, and so does my Master!

Torture Sex is The Best Kind of Dark Pleasure

With Torture sex on my mind, I prowl the streets at night with hunger for the hunt. Then he catches my eye, muscular, dark hair, pale skin and oblivious. So I take to stalking him silently, through the alley behind the club. That’s when I strike, pressing chloroform to his mouth.

He thrashes wildly against me, cock hardening instinctively in his panic as his body grinds mine before he slumps limp. Then I drag him to my basement sanctuary.

Torture Sex

Here I bind him to the chair, with brutality, leather restraints carving into his wrists and ankles until blood trickles.

When he wakes groggy; I smile and seize my pliers. Of which I clamp on his front incisor, twisting slowly until roots tear free with a wet snap. Blood gushes; he howls, the vibration rippling through me, soaking my cunt instantly.

Next, I yank each tooth methodically—molars crunching like gravel, canines ripping with fleshy pops—blood spraying my face and tits.

Which I smear over my hardening nipples, moaning as I lick the metallic tang from my fingers.

Torture Sex Drive Me Hotter Than Hell’s Deepest Core

Next, wire cutters. With these I pinch fingernails, snipping them off at the quick, then peel back the raw beds with deliberate twists. As skin tears in bloody strips; fresh screams echo as pus and blood ooze. Now I grind my thighs together, clit throbbing from his agony.

Sadistic Phone Sex

Box cutter in hand, I slice shallow grids across his chest and abdomen—flaps of skin peeling back to expose quivering fat. Making blood well thick; I finger the wounds. Then plunging my bloody digits into my dripping pussy, fucking myself slowly while he sobs.

Up next, the cattle prod, it hums alive. This I jab his thighs—flesh sizzles black. Then I shock his nipples until they blister. Finally, his balls and cock—watching it twitch and leak despite the burn.

Consequently, the odor of terror-sweat and scorched meat fill the air. This has my clit pulsing with every convulsion.

Finally, I chain him suspended, feet dangling helplessly. With my ritual knife gleaming, I carve deep into his stomach, guts spilling slick and steaming.

As I slice pectorals open, flaying skin from muscle, carving sigils into raw flesh while blood cascades.

Now his weakening moans fuel my dark ecstasy of Sadistic Phone Sex

In this final moment, blade to throat. Acceptance fills his eyes. And I slash deep—arteries erupt in scalding sprays across my face, neck, dripping between my breasts.

His twitching death throes trigger my release—cunt spasming violently, squirting down my thighs in profane climax.

Now I kneel in his cooling pool, fingers plunging into my soaked hole through the gore. Power surges; I cum again, screaming into the void.

This is my rapture, Gothic Phone Sex, – hunting, torturing, killing. The night beckons; I hunt forever.

Gothic Phone Sex

My Rape Phone Sex Fantasies Seem Vicious to Men

rape phone sex fantasiesMen do not corner the market on rape phone sex fantasies. As an evil bitch, I have them too. For women, but mostly for men. And my fantasies might not be typical. I don’t fantasize about hopping on a big dick and riding it until I orgasm. I own mechanical toys for that. My fantasies lean a tad darker.

The other night I made one of my dark fantasies come true. I fucked a predator in his ass with a strap on that I enhanced. And I bet you’re curious about what I did to that dildo aren’t you. I crushed fine glass with a rolling pin. I dipped the dildo in gorilla glue and then rolled it in the shards of glass that I made. Essentially, I turned my dildo into an ass shredder. And I made a guy my ass rape porn star.

Some Men Do Not Deserve

Although I never struggle to find assholes deserving of my anal shredding, I choose wisely. I’ve learned to fly under the radar for many years. I can sit back in any bar, watch and observe and men never notice me. Unless I want them to notice me. Usually, I hide in a dark corner where I can watch all the assholes attempting to pray on young girls by drugging their drinks. Some of these assholes do it just to get laid. Others possess more nefarious intentions.

For months, I’ve heard chatter about a tall, good-looking man, seducing young girls, drugging them, and selling them to the highest bidder online. He’s a sex trafficker. And that’s who I hunted this week. My many skills allowed me to track him and predict where he’d be. So, I enlisted the help of a young girl who fits his type. Through text messages and hand signals she followed my lead and switched the drinks. Dumb bastard didn’t see us coming. But that’s because he underestimates all women. And that’s a huge mistake.

When we got him back to my dungeon, I woke him up for the entertainment portion of the evening. We both wore that killer strap on I created and shredded his asshole a few times over. Turned his butthole into minced meat. He tried to deny the charges, but I’m also a skilled hacker and I found the site he uses to auction girls to the highest bidder. I traced it to him.

Some Men Deserve to Die for Their Crimes

 Not only did we shred his asshole, but we castrated him too. And he did not deserve clean castration. So, I used a rusty old sickle, cut them off and fed them to my dogs. The expression on his face while he watched my dogs eat his balls seemed worth it all.

We couldn’t let him live. So, we made him a snuff porn star. And we streamed it on the dark web so women could tell us what to do to him. We made the torture last for hours until he begged us to kill him. And we needed to kill him. A trafficker will not stop just because he lacks balls. This man didn’t fuck these girls. He sold them to people who would do far worse things to them. But not anymore. He died a fitting death. Tortured for hours by the very woman he tried to sell. Very fulfilling and altruistic kill.

Sadistic phone sex & Making More Holes for Him to Fuck

Sadistic Phone SexOne thing about me, I can be an evil, vile little bitch. That’s why I enjoy Sadistic phone sex to the fullest. What guys don’t understand when they call is what a dangerous question it is to ask ” Well Faith, what are you into… what makes you hot?” Usually I giggle, and go on about some more vanilla-ish things that do turn me on, while still heiring on the taboo side. Next to being a victim turned killer, I also like incest, and all forced fantasy play, and have even met a time or 2 that furry friends have gotten me excited.

I Love Snuff, Debauchery, Depravity and all things Taboo

Then I had this call with Randall. Randall has quickly moved up the ranks and has become a favorite fuck of mine. He just has this innocence about him ( that I secretly want to ruin in every way) and oozes boyish charm, all the while feeling unusually sinister in his own way. I get incredibly turned on when he calls, My snatch always soaks my panties at his cute, “hello”.

Last night I wanted to take care of Randall, so I told him that I would have a sweet surprise for him when he got home from work. While he was at work. I managed to go to the mall and befriend a beautiful, sweet, shy redhead. She was just hanging out with some friends… I told her is was my Husbands Birthday and I really wanted to take him out tonight but alas we just could not find a babysitter.

She volunteered to come home with me. Once I got her home, I knocked her out. Dragging her lip body upstairs. I stripped her of all clothes Restraining her to our four poster bed. . Her Pale skin so soft reminding me of the purest milk. Long red hair, that shined like fire, draped over her shoulders. Milky soft natural tits with pale pink nipples so pillowy and supple. Then, her tight taught little cunt with the softest little muff of bright red Pussy Hair.

The damage I intended to do, was giving me euphoria

Upon Randall’s arrival home. I tell him of his surprise that awaits him. We both go up to the bedroom. Where a once calm and quiet Teen girl, is now wriggling and writhing against her restraints. The crying and begging alone was causing my cunt to leak and making my nipples hard enough to cut diamonds. I told Randall I wanted to watch him assault her holes all of them, violently.  I knew her cunt had been used, so I wanted him to break her asshole open.

Once Randall penetrated all her holes, stretching them out. I made knew ones with  a sharp blade, sticking her above her rib but beneath her rib cage. That’s the softest. Making the hole small enough for him to feel like he was taking her virginity. I watch as Randall worked and forced his cock into her side, forcing warm sticky slick blood to gush out of her opening and coating him.

Fisting her tight cunt. I Loved making her Scream. Watching her eyes Blare all the way open. Wide and alert, to each touch, and rip. Feeling all the pain we wanted her to endure. I urged Randall to cum, to fill his new hole with his spunk. Watching him pump, and fuck our home made hole, was making me tetter on the edge.

Finally I reach for the blade again, and commence to splitting her from sternum to snatch. I wanted to be elbow deep inside our little prize as Randall found his sweet release in such and unsuspecting victim.

Be My Bloody Phone Sex Valentine

bloody phone sexDo you want to be my bloody phone sex valentine. The most romantic thing a man can do for me is offer himself up for me to butcher. I don’t possess the traditional need for men that most women do. I don’t need them for my financial independence because I make my own money. And I don’t need them to fuck me because that’s why they make sex toys. Plus, I don’t need men to do things for me because I’m a capable woman who can do it all by myself.

So, the only thing men can offer me is their body and soul to destroy. Perhaps, some people might call me a succubus. Personally, I don’t mind that comparison. I’m a sick bitch. But I’m also an island who needs nobody to survive. I just like to kill simps, losers, and assholes. The world will never miss them.

For shits and giggles, I put an ad out on the dark net looking for human sacrifices. And my inbox flooded with guys wanting me to choose them. Maybe they didn’t understand what snuff porn sacrifice meant or perhaps they understand that they contribute nothing to this world and thus do not deserve to continue breathing.

I picked Eddie. And I do my research before I agree to kill anybody or kill with anybody. Stone cold killers, like me, understand the risk we take. First, I need to make sure I’m not being set up. I also like to prepare blackmail material in case somebody tries back paddle.

Some Men are Too Weak to Off Themselves, So They Call Me

Eddie lives a pathetic existence. Tons of social media accounts with very few followers. Never married. Likely still a virgin at 48 years old. No real money of his own; he inherited money from his grandpa. I even found his Tinder profile showing off his little shrimp dick. And I doubt anybody ever swipes right on him.

Couple hours of research and I determined Eddie would be my bloody valentine. He showed up at my place with a bottle of red wine and flowers. Who makes romantic gestures to the woman they paid to kill them. Dumb ass. I took my time torturing Eddie. But somebody else’s pain becomes my aphrodisiac.

I tied Eddie up spread eagle naked, of course. And then I showed him my knife collection. I carved him up with my knives. I carved loser and my initials into his flesh. And I put a castration band around his useless little balls. Plus, I even sliced his little dick off. He’s not using it anyway.

Are You Strong Enough to Be My Bloody Valentine Sacrifice?

This loser paid me $50,000 to end his life. He wanted to be my bloody valentine. And he got what he wanted. No more rejection. No more lonely existence. And no more days of wishing himself dead. He lacked the balls to kill himself, so he paid somebody to do it for him.

Perhaps he had bigger balls than he thought. Before I tossed his body to the wolves, I removed his balls as a souvenir. Castration phone sex after the fact. When you remove the balls postmortem, they do not bleed, and they stay perfectly preserved for a few hours. Just enough time for me to stick them in a jar of formaldehyde.

Eddie knew his life was worth worthless. He just took up space and air. So, he gave himself to me willingly to torture and kill. Are you strong enough to be my bloody valentine too?

Murder Phone Sex Fantasies, Women Have Too

murder phone sex fantasiesMen do not corner the market on murder phone sex fantasies. Trust me, I’ve met a few men who I wanted to strangle myself. Even a submissive, druggie whore fantasizes about killing men and sexually torturing them too.

But I’m not good in the driver seat. So, I’ve often made myself the victim to get what I need. And all I ever need is money for cocaine. However, I recently found myself in a bind. Desperate for money. But that’s nothing unusual. However, none of the normal guys willing to work with me appeared around to abuse me. The weather apparently plans to keep everybody inside. Even the demented men.

So, if I could not make a snuff sex video for money, I didn’t know what to do. I started looking at some ads on the dark net. Maybe I could find somebody new to work with. And all I found was this one little loser looking for extreme cock and ball torture. He offered a mistress $1000 to trample his dick, use a sounding device and maybe even castrate him too.

So, I figured I could pretend to be a mistress for coke money. I’ve done a few castration calls before. I don’t get them often because I am a submissive whore. However, I’m an excellent role player so I could just pretend to be a mistress. And oh my God I enjoyed this loser. But don’t worry, men, I’m still the same druggie submissive bitch you know and love. I can make a lot more money being the punching bag. A grand worth of cocaine doesn’t go far with me, not in today’s economy. So, I’m not ready to hang up my submissive hat quite yet.

Sometimes, I am So Desperate for Money I Try to Be the Mistress

But I did tear this guy’s junk up, and it felt invigorating. In my high stiletto heels, I trampled his junk and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine many times. I used the sounding device with Ben Gay as lubrication to make it burn. And I channeled all my hatred towards a lot of these daddy Dom types into this one loser with a tiny dick. I made him cry. But usually, I’m the one crying.

Although I wanted to slice his balls off, we settled for a different type of castration. I used a castration band around his balls to cut off the circulation. And apparently, in a few days, his balls will fall off. The balls necrotize that way.

He’s been sending me pictures of his balls in various stages of decay, and they appear close to falling off. I enjoyed it. Granted I didn’t make as much money as I’m accustomed to when I’m on the other side of the abuse. But I did enjoy some extreme cock and ball torture sex with a pathetic little loser. However, guys, like I said before, I plan to stay in my lane. Being on the other end of the punching bag makes me far more money.

Knife Play Phone Sex is My Specialty So Don’t Try to Fuck Me, Loser

knife play phone sexKnife play phone sex is my specialty. Yet every day I get several idiots calling me for vanilla shit like the girlfriend experience. Some men even want me to be their mommy. Do I look like somebody’s fucking mom. I hate brats. No way will I ever be a wife or a mother. And no way will I ever be some basic bitch specializing in the girlfriend experience. Some idiot Instant messaged me this week wanting me to be his submissive little daughter with a cum filled pussy for daddy. I wanted to slit his throat right then and there.

I like knives. And I’m always in control. I’m not your daughter, your girlfriend or your wife. And you’re not my boyfriend, my husband or my son. You can be my victim or my accomplice. But nothing else. Do not ask me to roleplay some lame shit. I’m on a snuff site because I’m a dark sadistic bitch. And my favorite thing to do in this world is castrate losers, and dumb fucks as well as stab, cut up and mutilate all genders with a big fat sharp blade.

Richard hired me recently as his accomplice. He told me he wanted to go hunting for something young and sweet and tender that would feel super tight on his cock. So, the first day we met, we went window shopping so I could get an idea of what he wanted. And then the next night, I got him the perfect girl. I don’t know what the fuck he thought he paid me 50 grand for, but this fuck face acted shocked that I brought him a young girl to fuck and slaughter afterwards.

Sometimes Men Die Simply Because They Are Idiots

You don’t pay somebody that much money for their company. You pay that much money to make a teen rape porn. And you pay that much money so you can enjoy your fun without the fear of going to prison because your accomplice keeps you safe. But when he changed his tune, I let the girl go. However, not before I told her about his intentions. And that the only reason she ended up in this little kill shack was because he wanted to do bad things to her. And I gave her my knife.

I would guess this girl appeared to be in her young teens. Pretty girl and just the type he likes. But I couldn’t let him live. And I could only let her live if she committed a crime, so I could control her. She seemed to know what she wanted to do. She lunged at him and stabbed him right in the gut. I think this girl might like horror movies. Once the knife plunged straight into his belly button, she yanked it all the way up to the sternum, then back down and his guts and entrails literally spilled on the floor. She stood there in awe and amazement over what she did to him.

Although I Hate Brats, Sometimes I Meet

Now I think I could be a mother to a girl like that. No hesitation. No guilt. And at that moment she knew what she needed to do to survive. She never fucking hesitated. As he lay there bleeding out on the floor, trying to push his insides back where they belong, I instructed her to slice of his cock and his balls off, and shove them in his mouth. She giggled but did it quickly and happily.

Because I like this girl, I gave her half the money he paid me. And I told her to keep it a secret from her parents as well. What occurred in that cabin stays in that cabin. Then I drove her back to where I nabbed her from. I trust her. She won’t say a word because she liked the kill too much. I saw a lot of me inside of her. Although it is true, I’m not a fan of brats, every now and then I meet a young schoolgirl who I mentor. And I think I just found my new snuff sex mentee.

Necrophilia Phone Sex : The Best Kind of Graveyard Fun

My Necrophilia phone sex dungeon reeks of mildew, blood, and decaying flesh. No doubt this air is thick enough to choke and gag. Here I am found, straddling a man’s shattered chest. With my dress hiked up, bare cunt grinding down onto his blood-smeared sternum. This is foreplay.

It’s his weakening heartbeat pulses against my swollen clit like a dying drum, sending jagged spikes of pleasure through my body. As I rock slowly at first, then harder, my slick folds smearing crimson streaks across his skin as arousal floods my dripping hot and slick juices down his sides.

Now I need more and my scalpel bites into his collarbone, carving jagged spirals splitting flesh with crimson streaks. Blood erupts in thick pulses. I then greedily scoop it up. With my fingers plunging into the wound before thrusting them deep into my throbbing pussy.

Three digits now, curling viciously inside me, and hooking against my G-spot. All while the metallic warmth coats my insides.

Each savage stab of the blade makes him convulse. These spasms rock my hips, forcing my fingers deeper, as my inner muscles clenching in rhythmic ecstasy around the intrusion.

Deeper cuts follow—gouging into his abdomen, peeling back layers of muscle in ragged flaps, exposing quivering organs slick with gore. His body bucks in agony, the violent jerks slamming up into her cunt like involuntary thrusts. Hungrily I ride the torment, free hand clawing at my own tits.

While my nails raking my nipples until they bleed, mixing my pain with his in a symphony of ruin.

Immediately, fingers piston faster inside my, blood-lubed and relentless, hole stretching wider as orgasm mounts.

Now I revive him with ammonia’s sharp bite, eyes locking on his terror-glazed stare. And I mount his face.

Necrophilia Phone Sex  Makes Me Shudder with Ecstatic Convulsions of Bliss

My blood soaked lips seal over his mouth and nose, suffocating him in my musky heat. His feeble tongue lashes out in panic, flicking against my clit. As I grind down mercilessly, forcing it deeper into my pussy folds while blood from his wounds slickens me more.

Then his drowning desperation vibrates through me. His final gurgles humming against my sensitive nerves like a twisted vibrator.

Continually I grind and fuck his dying face. And I do so with abandon, hips slamming, cunt contracting in brutal waves as climax erupts. Leaving a torrent of squirt gushing over his face, flooding his throat, and drowning him.

Finally dismounting on trembling legs, thighs coated in mingled fluids, I raise the sledgehammer. Wildly, swings crash down—knees exploding in bone shards. His arms pulverized to pulp. Lastly, his skull caving with a wet, final crunch that sprays gray matter across my calves.

Then aftershocks ripple through my pussy, clit still pulsing, as I stroke the jar’s glass. Leading me into gazing at the preserved cock within, already aching to claim the next victim.

Ultimately, Morticia thrives in the fusion: orgasm born of obliteration, violence as the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Necrophilia Phone Sex

The altar demands more. Hail Satan