Category: Necrophilia phone sex

Necrophilia Phone Sex Layla Lays Down with Her Big Tits Out

Necrophilia Phone SexThe house is deathly silent, but my skin is buzzing. I’m sprawled across my silk sheets, my robe hanging open to let the cool air hit my skin, leaving my heavy, busty tits completely exposed. Necrophilia Phone Sex was how this night started, whispering filth into the receiver until I couldn’t handle the tension anymore. I heard the faint scrape of a window being jimmied open downstairs, and instead of calling the police, I felt a surge of pure, illicit adrenaline. 

I decided to stay right here, posing like a masterpiece, waiting to see who was brave enough to step into my sanctuary. I hear the floorboard creak outside my bedroom door. I close my eyes, slowing my breathing, pretending to be lost in a deep sleep while my heart hammers against my ribs. The door swings open, and I can feel a presence hovering over me. 

I don’t move, even as I feel his heavy gaze traveling over my curves desperately waiting for him to suffocate me with my pillow, lingering on the dark circles of my nipples peeking out from the sheets. He thinks he’s found a helpless victim, a sleeping beauty he can just take. He has no idea he’s stepped into a trap set by a woman who’s been craving a thrill this dangerous all night.

Just as he reaches out a rough, calloused hand to touch me, I snap my eyes open. I don’t scream. I don’t pull away. I grab his wrist with a strength that surprises him and pull him down until his face is inches from mine. “You picked the wrong house if you wanted an easy target, baby,” I say with my voice dripping with a dark, slutty confidence. “But you picked the right one if you’re looking for the ride of your life.”

He’s frozen, caught between the urge to run and the undeniable magnetism of my body pressed against his. I can see the raw desire in his eyes, and I know I’ve already won. I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling his hard, panicked body onto the bed. 

“Don’t stop now,” I whisper against his lips, my hands already fumbling with his belt. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you to break in and show me exactly what a real man can do.” The night is just beginning, and by the time I’m through with him, he’ll realize that I’m the one who’s truly in control of this “robbery.”

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

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

Sadistic Phone Sex is The Best Finale For You

Sadistic Phone Sex with your sadistic queen, the architect of exquisite endings, I am Morticia. Understand, men don’t just submit to me; they surrender their last breath for my pleasure.
Tonight, you lie bound spread-eagled on my black silk sheets, cock rigid and leaking despite the terror in your eyes.
First, I trail a single gloved finger down your chest, over your trembling stomach, and circle the head of your shaft. Weakened, you whimper when I squeeze—hard—drawing a bead of precum that I smear across your lips.
Then, Breaking the silence, “Tonight,” I whisper, climbing astride you, “you don’t cum and live. You cum and die.”
Next, I sink down slowly, letting my tight, wet heat swallow every inch of you. Then your hips buck involuntarily, but the ropes hold you still. As I ride you with deliberate cruelty—long, grinding strokes that drag my walls along your length, milking you without mercy.

Sadistic Phone Sex is Your Means to an End

As I ride, my firm breasts sway above your face; I lean forward and smother you briefly, letting you taste the edge of suffocation. Undoubtedly, you’re close already. In fact, I feel it in the desperate throb inside me.
Finally, I reach for the silk cord coiled beside the bed. With a wicked smile, I loop it around your throat—loose at first, then tighter as I quicken my pace.
Instinctively, your eyes widen, panic flashing as the pressure builds. As I ride harder, pussy clenching rhythmically, forcing you toward the brink.
“Beg me,” I hiss, pulling the cord just enough to make your face redden.
“Please… Morticia…” you choke out. I yank it tight. Your body arches violently beneath me, cock swelling impossibly thicker as oxygen flees.
Finally, I grind down savagely, chasing my own climax while your vision darkens. The moment your final, frantic thrust drives deepest, I cum—walls spasming around you, flooding your shaft with my release.
That’s when you break. Your cock erupts inside me, pulse after thick pulse, even as your struggles weaken. I keep the cord taut, riding your dying spasms, milking every last drop from your twitching body until you go still.
Only then do I loosen the silk and lean down to kiss your cooling lips. “Perfect,” I murmur, still impaled on your lifeless cock.
“You came…and you died. Exactly as promised.” I stay there a while longer, savoring the warmth fading inside me.
Another beautiful snuff sex victim for my dark fantasies collection.
Who’s next? Kneel and beg, darling. Morticia is always hungry.
Sadistic Phone Sex

Killer phone sex by my blade makes such a mess

Killer phone sexKiller phone sex is deeply satisfying when the prey I’ve acquired for your needs squirms beneath my blade. I’ve had the pleasure of introducing many to the intoxicating thrill of knife play.

There’s a certain je ne sais quoi about the way the tip of the blade glides across delicate flesh, leaving streaks of crimson in its wake.

It’s a visual feast, a gruesome work of art. That’s why you found me, I’m sure. You are an artist as well, and meat is the canvas and your cock the primary tool of creation. Mine, of course, is my blade. The best part? The knowledge that, once the edge finds its mark, there’s no turning back. The little bitch’s blood will spill, and we will enjoy every fucking moment.

The tears only add to the excitement. If I want to draw it out, I like to play along with their pathetic attempts to get free. These helpless victims believe their groveling can sway my resolve. But once they have realized nothing they say or do will change their outcome, they tend to fall silent. So, that’s when we turn up the torture. I’ll take my biggest knife and fuck her until she is really wet for your cock. All that blood will coat your dick, and I promise, Daddy, you will love how slick it feels.

Meat is meat, and right now, devour this pretty little thing and defile every hole.

As I slice, your cock throbs at her juicy red flesh. Ready to explode in a torrent of potent semen, mixing it with her blood and tears. Oh, how delicious! The mess will be spectacular, a gory symphony of blood and lust that will leave you hard and aching for more. Trust me, baby, with me as your guide, Bloody phone sex will give ya the ride of your twisted life. 

For more fun go to Mastodon 

Necrophilia Phone Sex For the Best Dead Fuck

Necrophilia phone sex is a gravely enticing for a morbid kind of pleasure. One night my boyfriend that worked at the Hospital morgue brought me home a gift.

This was true love. When I got my hands on this decapitated corpse of a factory worker I was so ecstatic.
First my morbid thoughts needed to hear about the accident report and how his head got crushed.

Evidently the poor sod was working on an elevator shaft and the elevator came hurdling down. And with it went his head.

Necrophilia Phone Sex is More Than Dead Fucks

Now this is a true lesson boys and girls always keep your heads from the shaft of an elevator. Keep arms and heads inside the card windows as well.

After all I have a story on that also, well not a car but a roller-coaster accident. So bloody and gory for Snuff sex filth.

Finally as I was listening to the report my mind went to the very incident being described and my hands roamed the corpses cock.

At this point I was ready to fuck the dead and told my man to blast the Dark Throne while I mount this dead dick.
At last his sticky decomposing shaft was sliding inside my sadistic phone sex vagina. In fact I was nearly coming just from staring down at his headless naked body. Nothing like that autopsy slit and stitches to really get my juices flowing.
Once I started to cum on that dick I was in need of my boyfriends cock to thrust inside my asshole. I love double penetration with a dead fucker.

Fucking the dead is Gothic as fuck and I am the darkest and most evil of them all. If you want to search out some dead chicks to violate their holes I can sure help find some. All the fantasy rape girls and prostitutes are always in my mans corpse drawers in the hospital basement.

Necrophilia Phone Sex

He was a better fuck, dead than alive

I have a little confession to make. See Im much Like a rabid animal with a taste for blood. After I’ve had it once, I can’t get enough. A friend of mine is a mortuary assistant, and I can have all the sex with dead bodies that I want. So Lately, I’ve been indulging.

Fucking actual stiffs are so hot

I Love “going shopping” That means going in the morgue and actually picking out a body. I get to pick out the fuckcicle I want to ride. Fuckcicle is a good term because those cocks are icy cold, but they stay hard forever. I just ride and ride and cum, squirt and piss all over their rigor mortised cock. It’s so good to fuck a cock that isn’t attached to a complaining and bitching ass man.

I even find myself cuddling with them afterwards. Snuggling up to to cool bodies. They keep pretty fresh for about 2-3 weeks, and then I just set them on fire out in the woods in the back. Boom! No evidence. Thought, I really want to start performing my own killings, and fucking the cocks that I snuff out. It’s hot but I feel like it can get so much hotter. Nothing sexier than riding a corpse until your cunt starts pissing cum. I don’t have to worry about him going limp either.

I’m also thinking about cutting and removing the dead cocks and balls that I fuck, as an entire 1 piece unit. That way, I can keep them as my most prized trophies, and sweet reminders.

Sex with Dead Bodies

Asphyxiation By Cock

Home invasion phone sex calls bring out my inner savage, When Master and I ran into your home with our guns blazing, tying you up, ready for blood. I slapped your wife with the butt of my gun because her screams were irritating me, Master tied you up and your whore of a wife, her lips bloody from my gun. Forcing it in her mouth making her suck it. Taking a tooth or two out in the process as you beg me not to hurt the slut. Stripping her naked forcing a glass bottle in her pussy to open her up. You’re begging just fueled my fire, making me want to step it up and hurt her a little bit more, then I hear a faint cry coming from down the hall, Both of you beg me not to hurt your young one as I follow the cries, coming back with a tiny little cum whore, bouncing her on my hip soothing her just enough to shut her fucking mouth just enough for me to molest her little plump hairless cunt. Removing her pajamas and underwear my pinky in her tight little asshole, she squirms and tries to wiggle free making my pinky go deeper. Home invasion phone sexBoth of you crying and screaming for me not to hurt her. Master has a huge hard on and I know just how to make him cum, bringing him your little bundle of joy, his cock out and throbbing as I sit her tiny pussy on his face, his long perverted tongue exploring her holes as you watch in terror, I stroke Master until he is rock hard, placing your mini slut on his dick, stuffing his huge cock in her tender twat, she lets out a blood curdling scream as I bounce her on his thick pole. All you can do is cry and beg me to stop, I bounce her harder, she is passing out from the pain. I pull Masters blood soaked cock out of her pussy and stuff it in her mouth, Making her clean up the blood, his cock is so big its cutting off her air circulation, we hear her gasping for breath, fighting to breath as her skin turns pale, shoving his massive member farther down her throat, she spits up on his cock and begins to choke on her vomit but I don’t stop her, instead I stuff his meat farther down her throat, by now she is blue, her body is limp, removing Master’s cock from her mouth tossing her lifeless body to the side. Your next!  

Murder phone sex Fantasies, the bloodier the better

Murder phone sex Fantasies are such a fun, grotesque dance. Oh, the depravity! It is the only way I can truly cum. Both sets of lips drool at the sight of a bloody, pulsing cock. The sweet nectar of violence on my tongue brings me to life, and I know how much you love it too. Isn’t it music to your ears to hear the cries of a helpless, doomed little slut?Murder phone sex Fantasies
Maybe I am an evil bitch, but I do have taste, don’t I? I know you have been dreaming of a woman who is consumed by a hunger for blood. I cannot deny the intoxicating thrill I derive from this twisted realm. These pathetic little whores, so easily bought and broken, are mere pawns in our sadistic game. We’ll use them up, leave them a shattered, unrecognizable husk, and no one will bat an eye. They’re a dime a dozen, disposable playthings for our distinct appetites.
In my domain, there’s a never-ending carnival of carnage and depravity where snuff fantasies reign supreme. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, it’s a world of brutal, wanton pleasure. You have the opportunity to taste the blood of those helpless little virgins and turn them into proper victims! Because I need you to have the most extreme gore-slicked dick. My tongue aches to lick every inch, to savor the metallic tang of the Snuff Sex slave’s blood.
Oh, the sweet ecstasy of snuff! Let the screams of our little porn star motivate your cock to fuck harder. Pound your cock deeper and deeper. I need your cock to be soaked with the little bitch’s guts. Make me cum harder than ever. Don’t hold back, babe. I’m your goddess of filth, worshiped by the dark gods of vice and perversion.