Category: Mutilation phone sex

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.

Castration Phone Sex is The Best Inspiration For Me

When it comes to Castration Phone Sex fantasies, men come to me with a need. Ultimately, I adore more than castration. Why not just cut the whole fucking thing off and get culinary?
Obviously, he knows what awaits—I’ve whispered promises of ecstasy laced with agony. Now his eyes widen as I strip him bare, exposing his family jewels that I’ll soon claim.
Then, I bind his wrists above his head with silken ropes stained from past rituals. Ultimately, forcing him to stand vulnerable while I trace my sharp nails along his spine and exposed flesh.
Examining and enjoying a little blood letting, trickles of blood seep from my traces. Leaning in, I lap a line up and moan with pleasure at the taste on my lips.

Castration Phone Sex Fulfills A Hunger Within

Then, I kneel in front of him, brushing my lips over his hardening shaft. While teasing with soft licks that make him groan in false hope.
Of course, mercy isn’t in my vocabulary; I grip his balls firmly. Then I squeeze until he whimpers.  Finally, I fetch my gleaming silver blade from the altar.
Next, I slice deep, severing the sack with precise cuts. All while watching the hot blood spurt of my snuff sex ritual. As his screams echo off the isolated walls of a recording studio.
Then, I catch the severed orbs in my palm. Oh, how warm and pulsing they are. Next, I hold them up to his fading gaze, laughing as shock twists his face.
Subsequently, I rise, pressing my body against his weakening form. With my black lace corset rubbing against his chest. All while I force his mouth open and pop one testicle inside. Sadistically, I leer at him, demanding he start chewing.
Of course, he gags, tears streaming, but I pinch his nose shut until he swallows the salty flesh. Leaving his body convulsing in revulsion.
Now, I slowly carve the other from its sack. Ultimately, savoring each incision that exposes raw nerves. And this one, I devour it myself—biting down with a crunch. And close my eyes as the metallic tang explodes on my tongue. Now, his howls turn to sobs.
Cannibalism Phone Sex is Part of The Cycle of Death
Finally, as life ebbs from him, I straddle his lap, grinding my wet pussy against his mutilated groin. It’s the slick blood lubricating my thrusts against nothing but pain.
Above all, I cum hard, waves of sadistic bliss crashing over me. Then, I slit his throat in one fluid motion.  Additionally, I drink the gush of crimson that sprays my tits.
Of course, his body slumps lifeless, a canvas for my art, and I feast on the rest. In cannibalism phone sex pleasure, I start slicing tenderloin from his thighs, roasting it over hellfire coals.
Ultimately, in this snuff sex  symphony, I am the goddess, eternal and insatiable. While his essence fuels my dark hunger forever.
Castration Phone Sex

Taboo phone sex makes nothing safe and everything nasty

Taboo phone sexTaboo phone sex sluts love to be evil. Dark, twisted desires consume my every thought as I cruise the streets, on the hunt for malleable flesh to mold into my twisted fantasies.

 

And torture is the best way to get off!

 

Sweet, innocent little sluts, so naive to the depraved world that awaits them. My boyfriend loves to destroy their purity too. Those little asses are beckoning us to corrupt and claim them as our own.

 

We get into the truck, and we’re off to find our next new doll to play with. I spot a promising target, her youthful form strutting down the sidewalk with an air of carefree innocence.

 

My stake-out eyes zero in, drinking in every curve and angle. She’s ripe for the taking, a juicy plum just begging to be plucked. A cute little redhead with skinny legs and milky, virginal skin. Her tits were perky and ass plump, just perfect for his cock.

 

With calculated precision, I swing the truck around, pulling up beside her with a guttural rev of the engine.

 

A wicked smile plays on my lips as I lean over and beckon her over. “Hey there, sweet thing,” I purr, my voice dripping with dark seduction. “Want to come for a little ride?”

 

Fear and confusion war with a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she approaches the vehicle.

 

I reach out, trailing a finger along her delicate jawline, and her breath hitches. Damn, she’s even more delectable up close. The battle’s already been lost; her body is on the cusp of surrender, and I can almost taste the sweet surrender.

 

Once inside, the cab’s claustrophobic confines envelope us in a sphere of primal, unbridled sex. Hands roam, harsh breaths mingle, and the scent of arousal thickens the air.

 

The little slut quivers under my touch, a live wire ready to short-circuit into ecstasy. Fear gives way to forbidden desire as she submits to the darkness that surrounds her and my man’s cock.

 

It barely fit in her. I really had to force it in her. Good thing we are using her for Snuff sex. After he gagged her on his dick, I stuck it in her bald cunt and broke her neck while he was still inside her.

 

Killer Phone Sex Fantasies Overwhelms Me Because So Many Folks Deserve to Die

killer phone sexWe all possess killer phone sex fantasies. And I believe in this modern age we live in those desires have only strengthened. Personally, I think I deserve some sort of award for not killing every motherfucker I meet daily. Too many fucking idiots and assholes exist. And most days I feel overwhelmed and not sure who to kill first.

Recently, a fellow Goth girl informed me that she encountered an online predator. Well, her daughter did. Her young teenage girl thought that the person she’d been chatting with went to her school. She got catfished by a much older man. And that much older man tried to kidnap her. But this girl knew how to handle herself thanks to her mother. So, she got away. But I started thinking about the next girl who wouldn’t be so lucky.

Despite having an exhaustive snuff sex list of who deserves to die, I put this online predator at the top of the list. And I set a honey trap. He’s not the only pervert who knows how to catfish. My young protégé, wanted to help me with this. So, I used her picture because I felt certain that a man like that would do his research and find out that she goes to the local high school.

This was our version of to catch a predator. When he showed up to meet her, of course he did not realize I laid in wait. We used my house, so we could easily get him into my torture chamber. I don’t know how many girls this man sexually assaulted. But when traced IP addresses, I realized he’s been doing this for a while. So, I plotted revenge for my friend’s daughter and all the other girls who did not escape him.

To Catch a Predator is My Favorite Game

He woke up in my castration chair. He deserved death. But I feel castration phone sex seems like the perfect revenge for a sexual predator. They will keep their urges, but they can no longer fulfill them because I neutered them. Well, this time, my protégé neutered him. I let her enjoy the honors. And she sexually carved up his junk with a rusty old blade. And she joked about how she hopes his dick gets gangrene and falls off. We both had a laugh at that one.

She eventually got to his balls and removed them. My protégé wants to start her own collection of severed balls. A reminder of her vigilantism and a reminder that she can use her murderous impulses for the greater good. And for us, the greater good always involves making the world safer for girls and women. Trust me. I killed and castrated men for less.

But I’m learning now that even if my kill list seems exhaustive, I always meet some loser who goes to the top of the list at hello. This pervert won’t go to the police because he’d have to admit what he’s done. He’d need to be honest about why any woman would want to castrate him. So, I own this ballless wonder now. And so does my young protégé.

Snuff Sex So Many Men Seem Deserving of These Days

snuff sexSome people seem more deserving of snuff sex than others. And I know I’m not a highly moral person. And by that I just mean, the people I kill maybe the average person would never murder. I used to suffer from an impulse disorder. If somebody pissed me off, I usually killed them on the spot. But that’s how you get caught. And my grandpa helped me with my impulse issues. Turned me into a highly skilled assassin essentially.

Now if somebody pisses me off, I don’t kill them. Well, I don’t kill them immediately. I let my anger fester for them, and I plot their demise so that I can get away with their murder. Few people have killed as many people as me. Now some of my kills I will admit men paid me. A sort of killer phone sex babe for hire sort of thing. But I’m being truthful. I’ve killed a lot more people for sport and revenge than I have for pay.

Charlie died last night. But only after 48 hours of torture. Don’t feel sorry for Charlie, he deserved it. A brat predator. He’s on that brat registry. I know I don’t really care that much about what men do to little girls because they just grow up to be bitches anyway for the most part. But this guy tried to force fuck a friend of mine’s baby sister. When she told me the details, I decided to plot Charlie’s cock and ball mutilation and death.

Men Rarely Ever Meet a Sicker Bitch Than Me

He spent 48 hours tied up in my basement to my castration chair. First thing I did was put hat pins in his worthless dick and balls. I guess, I used about 100 hat pins on his disgusting dick and balls. After that, I shaved the skin off his cock and balls with a razor blade. Very fine skin shavings and then I poured a bottle of alcohol on him. Not sure I ever heard a man scream like that before. But he deserved it for all the pain he’s inflicted on little girls over the years.

I didn’t just mutilate his junk either. But I also carved off his nipples. I burned his flesh. And I shoved a broken beer bottles up his asshole shredding him from the inside out. Castration turned out to be the least of his concerns. I mutilated and mangled his body. And I caused so much intense pain that he almost died of a heart attack. But I didn’t want him dying of natural causes. So eventually, I sliced open his femoral artery and watched him bleed out. I did that last act of torture sex outside in the wild so that the animals would smell the blood and eat him alive.

I’m a sick bitch. You don’t want to cross me either because I just get sicker with age. Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with my friends. And don’t mess with any of my friends’ loved ones either. Or you might die even a more heinous death than Charlie.

Snuff Phone Sex Calls Often Involve Torture Too for Me

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

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

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

Men Do Not Get Away With Harassing My Friends

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

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

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

I Enjoy Castrating Men who Think They Own Women

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

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