I want for us to become closer. I have just purchased a new box of razor blades. I have been cutting designs into my stomach, my legs, breasts, and my pussy; watching the blood trickle down my flesh. I love the feel of my cuts, a unique hue of red. Do you want to play in my crimson patterns? I will skillfully and gently slice your chest, multiple times, careful not to harm you, make it bleed and lick the blood. Do you like to lick a pussy that is bleeding from menstruation? I’ll take out my tampon and let you devour my blood. I am a sexy vampire. Let’s Smear our blood onto one another, make abstract paintings, like artists-just like Picasso. I can sprinkle my pretty crimson colored bloody love potion; putting you under my my evil spell, turning you into my mindless sex-zombie. Lets mix our blood, become blood-lovers. I have a nice collection of knives that I would love to show you. We can cut and have wild and intense sex.
Category: Rape phone sex fantasies
Dying with a Stiff Cock, in the hands of a Psychotic Bitch…
I have been having wet dreams about strangling you, as you lay fast asleep in my bed. While you are asleep, I go into the garage and grab a long electrical chord, wrap it around your neck, tighten it, tie a slip knot (tying each end of the chord to the left and right bed posts; above your head). You wake up with fear in your eyes. You look at me, grab your neck and gasp for air!!!! I approach you; pretending that I do not know what happened. I act like I am trying to set you free. Instead, I tighten the cord. I lie, telling you not to worry. I tell you to wait where you are (HAHAHA). I go into my bedroom dresser drawer and grab a long pair of scissors. I close the blades; insert them inside of the extension chord and begin to twist (removing the slack). I pretend that I am trying to break open the wire and release you. You look up at me with desperation in your eyes, gasping, coughing, wheezing. Mucus and phlegm spew from your mouth and nose. You sweat profusely; shivering (you already begin to smell like death). HAHAHA-you stink!!! I tell you not to worry. I lie, I tell you that I will save you. I climb on top of you and tell you to hold on-not to give up!! With tears in your eyes, you grip your neck, ,take your last breath, and then…… you become limp. FINALLY, you are dead (with a hard cock). My work is done here. I suck your cock and then get on top of you (inserting your dead, but stiff cock inside of my asshole). I rub my pussy and ride your deceased cock, until I cum all over it. Come sleep with me. My bed is open.
Sacrificium
Once a year a celebration takes place. One in which I am honored to be a part of, as not many are. We conduct this gathering to insure each and every One of Us protection throughout the coming year, so that We may continue Our work in the Name of The Ancients, and no I am not referring to the Christian God. The Ones I worship are the Old Ones, from a time long past, whose dogma has been pushed under the carpet as it is considered barbaric.
This year it was the task of Another to obtain the Sacrificium. For one year, it is ordained that the Sacrificium must be kept safe, to be trained up in it’s foretold duty at the next celebration. It is not to be taken lightly. From what I have been told, the year with the Sacrificium is tedious. You must spend each free second working with them. They need to memorize the words to use, the proper etiquette, the proper mannerisms, how they are to address Those in attendance. For the first few months, this would be a bit irritating to say the least. However, by the time of the Celebration, they are ready.
They are dressed in what some would consider a Baptismal Gown. They are pure, they are innocent, and they help to insure that We have a Blessed year. This year, it has been told that the Sacrificium is particularly special. They have made rapid progress in their preparation. I am looking forward to this Celebration with great anticipation. When We raise them up in Our hands to hold them before They who perform the Holy Act, the thrill that courses through Me is unlike anything else I have ever experienced. If you do not know what “Sacrificium” is, it is the term used for a “Blood Sacrifice.”
What Friends are For!
Men who say women belong in the kitchen. Obviously don’t belong in the bedroom. So what good are they? I was doing some errands and I overheard some guy laughing with his friends. He was bragging that women shouldn’t be allowed out of the kitchen. And then he had the BALLS to make some rude comments to me when I walked by him. He mentioned how I looked like a whore. And no woman of HIS would have tattoos. Like women are property. To be owned and controlled. To be used. And as I was walking away… I got more and more PISSED! How dare he talk like that to me. That is what is wrong with men now days! And there is NO way I will allow some worthless piece of shit to talk like that to me. To call me a whore! Fuck him. I turned right around. And walked up to him. I got right in his face and asked him what the fuck he said. Well he bolstered and preened for his friends. Called me a dirty whore and made the fatal mistake of pushing me back. That was all I was waiting for. I needed him to put his hands on me first. I grabbed his hand and twisted it hard hearing it SNAP. As I planted my 4 inch heel, right into his knee cap. He went down like a sack of potatoes When I ripped my shoe out it took a big clump of his knee with my heel. All his friends shut their fucking mouths fast after that. I told that fucker that if I ever saw him again. It would be much worse. And to keep his fucking thoughts to himself. I am not sure he heard me over his screams. But I am sure his friends will remind him … Forever!
Cockroach
I love finding used up things that still have a little bit of purpose left in them. Take for example Shelly. I first noticed her outside my building. She was bedded down between two dumpsters in the back. At first I thought it was just an old pile of clothing crumpled up, but as I lifted up the lid to the dumpster to put my trash in it, the pile moved. I looked closer and it was a fucking person. She stank, BAD! She looked like she had been drug behind a car, bruised up, cut here and there, but she still had that clearness to her eyes, so I knew she was still in there beneath all that street filth.
I kicked her leg, she shrunk away from me, I kicked her again and said, “Hey, skunkgirl, you wanna sandwich or something?” She turned her face fully toward me and said very quietly, “Yes please.” Yes Please? Wow, Skunky had manners. I told her to just follow me, as soon as I got inside the smell was horrible. I said, “First things first, because you smell like a rotting whore’s cunt. You need to shower.” I pushed her into the bathroom and had her toss out her clothing. I immediately put them on my fire-escape, and waited for her to finish her shower. She was taking forever, I actually at one point thought the dumb bitch drowned. She came out with a towel wrapped around her, and even though she did wash, she was still nasty looking, no amount of soap was going to fully wash away that ground in putrid stink that came from her.
I told her to sit down at the table and I gave her a sandwich. She ate it in like 12 seconds flat. I asked her what she was doing on the street, she almost curled into a ball. I said, “What, does Mommy treat you mean? She take away your X-Box or something?” Then I laughed. I made her another sandwich and as she was eating it, she mumbled out that her Daddy had fucked her, and she liked it, so her Mommy kicked her ass out.
I said, “So basically, you fucked your Mother’s husband like some sort of cheating ghetto bitch that has no self respect?” She looked up at me, then she looked pissed, I guess I must of hit a nerve, and she stuck out her leg and that’s when I saw the scaring, it was fresh. She said, “My Mom did this to me.” I said, “What? Am I supposed to be outraged by it? You fucked her Husband. What did you expect?”
I said, “I threw away your clothing. You won’t need them anymore.” She then started to thank me, saying shit like, “I am so glad you are giving me clothes, I have been wearing these same ones for two weeks.” I gave her a glass of lemon aid, she drank it down. I sat down slowly, lit a cigarette and watched. At first she was all smiles, then she lurched forward, doubled over, and made this sound like a grunt. She looked at me and her body started to shake, you could tell she wanted to say something, but by this time the froth started to spew out of her mouth. I sat there smoking, not moving at all. Her eyes did this weird thing, I thought they were going to explode, the smell that was coming from her mouth was acidic, it was the color of bile, I started to smile.
Then it dawned upon her, I had put something in her drink. She pushed herself back and fell to the floor, she tried to crawl, but I put my foot onto the back of her neck. I squatted down so she could hear me really well above the noise she was making, I said, “What you did to your Mother was low, and what’s more lowly then a cockroach? So I am treating you like one, and now all that is left is for me to stomp you out once and for all.” I stood up, picked up my foot and did just that.
Without a Face
There are some who don’t like the way that I look and judge me. Calling me white trash, wierd, ugly. That’s okay because, Evil has no face. The things that I am capable of doing and have done don’t need a ‘pretty face’ to do them. I still get laid, I still party, and I still think about and do bad things.
I am thinking now about the things that I want to do to that pretty little bitch who thinks that her pussy is too good for anyone. She laughs at me, turns her back, and walks away with an attitude-until I help you to capture her. She quickly finds out that her little bald pussy is for the taking. She learns some things that school never taught her: and that’s how to become the helpless victim of people who want to use her and hurt her, and when its over, shooting huge cum loads down her throat. I choke her and punch her in the face, until she passes out. Her once pretty face is all bruised up, bloodied and swollen. (Her mother has been roughed up and force-fucked).
I hate that bitch, so when it is all over, I lay on top of her motionless, frail body with my little wet pussy rubbing against her’s, as the man who fucked her against her will switches off from fucking my hot, creamy pussy and ass to her motionless cunnie and asshole. He cums again, but this time it is all over her beautiful, long dark hair. I cum with him and kiss him as I cream all over his cock. Then I rub my creamy little pussy back and forth, all over her quiet and swollen lips; wiping my cunnie juices all over her face. He and I are so turned on from what we did that I finger her little pussy while he shoves his hard cock down her throat until he blows another load. When she wakes up, she will know what its like to not feel pretty. Fuck that Bitch.
A Rape Fantasy and Murder Fantasy: I don’t Think So!
I was the ‘other woman’-in a sadistic love triangle-lasting for 6 months-until we killed your wife. Yesterday, I was your accomplice, as we tortured-defiled-and made your wife the victim-and recipient of our rape fantasies (brought into fruition). I crawled silently on the floor-to your bedroom-where she slept alone-waiting for your return. You returned all right-after ejaculating inside of my asshole-I love rough sex (HAHAHA). You were behind me, holding a fucking-huge-nail-spiked baseball bat-to be used to bludgeon your wife to death. I carried jagged edge knives in my bra-and a large spiked, strapon cock (attached to my hip, via a holster-like a pistol (HAHAHAHA)). After restraining her to the bed, I used my nail embedded strapon-forced myself into her fuck holes. You were standing over her, beating her skull-while I stabbed her. Blood splattered everywhere-she screamed-shrilling screams of-agony-fear. Each time that you wailed on skull with the spiked bat-I got wetter (HAHAHAHA). Each thrust of my knives into her chest and stomach caused her ass muscles to grip my strapon hard-like she used to grip your dick (HAHAHA). It did not take long before she stopped moving. We put her body inside of a huge, sturdy (economy sized) trash bag-threw it into the trunk of your car-dumped it into a heavily wooded area (the next town over). We cleaned the room with bleach-removed all traces of our crime.
Quiddity
Shhhhhhh. Drift, let go, float among the silent souls, be at peace. Take nothing with you, do not try to hold on, fore there is nothing of you left here. The time you spent with Me has come to fruition, there is nothing more. Scraps of you are all that remain, pieces of what your essence was: your quiddity: has run it’s course. I helped it along, to mature, to grow rapidly, to teach you what you were born to do. You were born to be torn asunder, to be pain’s mistress, to hang onto hope, then witness it crash to the cement when you realized that hope had forsaken you. Shattered, broken, twisted images are all that remain, they too are starting to darken aren’t they My sweet. How ragged your breath is, wet sounding, short, your mouth gasping toward the sky in one last valiant effort to survive. Do not fool yourself, do not allow your light to go out with this lie in your head. I will help you once more, I will give you one last kiss upon those crimson stained lips tinged with a purple hue. My fingers will slither around your delicate throat, My grip will tighten, your wide eyes will flutter closed, and your quiddity will be released into the atmosphere, to fade into nothing.
Are You Brave Enough?
You think you understand me, and why I do the deliciously evil things I do. You also seem to think you understand what you want, but I know better. Creating an atmosphere for pleasure, pain and desire is what I do best, and if you think about it too long or too hard you will back out. I don’t mind doing all the work and I don’t mind providing all the entertainment, but I do mind if you back out. I know you want this as much as I do, hmm, maybe even more. The low moans, the soft tears, the screaming, the crying, the begging, and all the sights, sounds, smells and flavors that go along with this incredible adventure are yours for the taking. Don’t rob yourself of this experience because you’re afraid. Let me take you down the path you know you want to be on, the path you deserve.
When you chose your victim you had specific criteria, and I don’t care what the criteria is. I just wanna bring the ultimate pain to this little bitch in a way that’s going to make your cock throb in ecstasy. Watching you split her little pussy in half is incredibly hot, so I will be extremely disappointed if you don’t follow through. Don’t worry baby, just leave everything to me and I promise you’ll have such an unforgettable time! You will be drawn back to me time and time again to fulfill all your secret twisted fantasies.
A Little Dirt Never Hurt
A little dirt never hurt, at least that is what my Mother used to tell me. I have learned that a lot of dirt can though. If you pile it on thick enough. It can cave in your chest, it can be sucked into lungs, it can get caked in the nose. I guess my Mother just never played in dirt the right way. Take for example this idiot. I kept telling her, shut up. Did she listen? Nope. Do I have to hear her whiny voice anymore? Nope. I’ll leave that to the worms. They can put up with her. I’ll leave her out there for awhile. Not that she will last long, what with the gag, and bag over her head, but I’ll go out in a bit anyway, just to check on her. I really hated to have to do what I did, she was a lot of fun to play with. Her soft, creamy skin bruised up so nicely. Have you ever seen a hymen rip? It is one of the most glorious sights to see, and now I bet there are bugs all up inside her by now. Maybe I’ll send this picture to my Mother to show her that dirt can hurt, if the proper amount is used.