Although usually I help men as their accomplice phone sex partners, sometimes women need my assistance too. But when it comes to women, I’m usually helping them for free because I know them. I’ve had a few random women I met on the dark net pay me to get rid of an ex-husband or an ex-boyfriend or even a current one. However, most women I help, I know personally.
Recently, a new stripper I hired last month shared with me the private turmoil she’s experiencing. A college girl I hired off Rover to be my dog walker when I travel. Smoking hot girl next door. The kind of girl men love in a strip joint. So, I groomed her for the idea of making a lot more money. Although I hate to lose a reliable and trustworthy dog walker, I felt happy to make the club and her some serious money.
But one day she came into the club with bruises all up and down her arm and a black eye. And I thought to myself oh boy she’s in an abusive relationship. It turns out the abuser is her step daddy. And he’s done far worse things to her than just physical abuse. So, I decided step daddy needed to die.
Revenge Gets Me Off. Some Men Do Not Deserve to Breathe.
This brought back memories of my own abusive father and his friends. I saw it as a cathartic moment to exact revenge through snuff sex. I’m a much different woman now. No longer a scared little girl. I can defend myself and I can exact revenge now.
I figured it best to leave my new stripper out of the planning process. Keep her hands clean. Imagine my surprise when I drove by her home and saw one of my father’s cronies who abused me as a young girl. Her stepfather worked for my father 30 years ago.
At first, I got scared. But then I knew the last time he saw me I was neither blonde nor busty. Plus, I doubt he would recognize me 30 years later. But I never forget the faces of the men who violated me like it was nothing. He needed to die.
So, one day, while my new stripper danced on stage, I looked through her phone and found his number listed under step monster. And I sent him a text. Pretended to be her and had him meet me at this no tell motel where you can scream bloody murder and nobody gives a fuck. It’s one of those rent by the hour places. And it’s one of those seedy motels that if you give the attendant enough money, he never saw you and he never heard a thing.
The Men Who Abused Me as a Schoolgirl Made Me a Blood Thirsty Bitch
Although this guy violated me the least because he was only in his early 20s at the time he force fucked me, he still enjoyed fucking the shit out of a schoolgirl. Clearly my jailbait pussy gave him a taste for it because he’s been force fucking his stepdaughter for many years. He did not recognize me. I concocted a story about knowing his stepdaughter. This fool believed that his stepdaughter who loathes him would send him a woman to fuck. Delusional.
Right before he put his cock in my pussy, I grabbed a knife and sliced it off. Dead men don’t need their dicks, I told him. As he bled profusely all over motel bed, I tied him up. Then I told him who I was. No apology. No shame on his face. However, he seemed surprised I was alive. Apparently, my dear old dad told all his friends he killed me and buried me in the backyard to keep my mouth shut. My bastard of a father never told his friends I ran away. I guess his ego couldn’t handle the truth.
Sixteen different men violated me as a young girl. And of the 16 men, including my father, who made me a teen rape porn star, only six remain. I’ve been quietly exacting my revenge on daddy’s sick cohort for years. And I enjoyed torturing this guy. He deserved it. If he violated me and his stepdaughter as teenage girls who knows how many other teenage girls, he’s violated. I read him a long list of grievances. Gave him a chance to defend himself and the fucker spit in my face and said fuck you cunt.
Men Always Underestimate Me and That is a Huge Mistake
So, I took my knife and stabbed him in the gut. I’ve learned from my callers and the dark web that if you want a man to suffer a slow death, stab him in the stomach so he slowly bleeds out. Stabbing them in the heart equals a quick death. But stabbing them in the gut prolongs the suffering. When I felt like he might be taking too long to fucking die, I sat on his face and smothered him with the twat he violated. Squeezed my thighs against his head and came on his face from the pleasure of torturing and murdering one of my abusers.
But I killed not only for me but for my new stripper who still can’t escape his clutches. I staged the room to look like he hired a hooker to party with and she killed him. They will look for a woman nobody saw. And if they do their due diligence, they might discover what a piece of shit he was to his stepdaughter. But she’ll have an airtight alibi because she was on stage dancing when I murdered her piece of shit abusing step daddy. Good riddance. Six more men to go.
