Category: Sadistic phone sex

Rape Phone Sex Fantasies While I Roast

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I can smell the flames coming from the burning flames.  I can hear the metal spit turning over the fire, getting nice and hot. I see you drooling as you stand over my weak body, ready to snuff me out over the flames. You put on your gloves, as I whimper, and slide the spit off its hangers. The sound of the hot metal against metal makes my pussy start to drip.  I am helpless, and can only watch as you slide the tip of the burning metal rod between my legs and jam it up inside my pussy.

The burning and tearing of my insides finally gives me enough shock to move and scream. You ignore me and continue to slide the spit rod up up up up through my insides. You tell me I am you’re little pig roast whore and that you’re going to roast my body tonight. Up up up, the sharp rod pierces through my uterus, then makes its way up my esophagus, until I am choking on it from the inside. Blood gurgles out of my mouth as my eyes bulge and the tip of the spit rod finally comes out my mouth.

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You keep sliding it and then lift my limp body up with the rod and place it back on the spit over the fire. I can smell my hair burning as it sets on fire, and I can feel the flames licking my flesh as the spit starts to turn slowly. You squirt me with leftover blood, to make a sweet roast out of my tiny body.  I cook slowly and my body is stuck in position so I can only see where the rod allows me to see.  You, and then the night sky, the open field, and then the flames in my face. My hair is gone and I can no longer breathe from the smoke of my burning flesh.

I beg inside my head for the flames to take me, for you to take me. Please snuff my pathetic existence. Kill me and roast me like the dirty little pig whore I am.

Taboo Phone Sex with a Sacrifice

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I got you a gift Master. She is there, in the corner, tied up.  I ball gagged her and slit her wrists so that she wouldn’t scream until you came home. I will wake her up for you once you fuck me up. I need you so badly master, I am your dirty little fucking whore. I have brought you the sacrificial lamb you have demanded. Now it is time for you to take me down so that you can devour the lamb.

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She wakes up and watches in horror as you begin slicing me up. I scream with passion and she is so afraid she is trembling all over. She knows there will be no way out. She has given up on the idea of escaping. I’ve weakened her for you. I showed her all my scars and broken bones and missing nipples and told her that she is next. Fuck my wrecked pussy while she enjoys her last moments of sanity. 

Take me to my last breath, then roll my head her direction so that I can watch you take her as I fade out. I can see you, Master, pulling her from the corner. Untying her arms and then breaking them so that her limbs are useless and flopping helplessly by her sides. I am fading in and out and I want to hang on to watch your snuff skills. I do everything I can to focus my fuzzy eyes and I see her bleeding from between her breasts, then down her legs. I see you bite her lips off of her face and spit them out.

You break her legs and she falls to the ground. She is a dirty whore just like me and so you piss all over her pathetic body. I hope you enjoy your gift, Master. I am fading out and I am so worthless that you don’t even notice me anymore.

Rape Phone Sex Fantasies Snuff Night

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your knife will cut me deeply.  I woke up in a fog and I don’t know what day it is or whether its day or night.  I’ve been locked underground for so long and had so many blackouts that I can no longer keep track. I look down and your name is carved across my abdomen. The blood has clotted and it looks so beautiful. I run my hand across your name, feeling the thick blood scabs, and whisper it to myself.

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I realize at that moment I can barely speak, my throat is raw from you fucking it and my tongue is swollen from your beatings.  But you treat me exactly how I deserve to be treated. You are the only one who knows how to control my sexual desires. I reach down further to where my pussy used to be. Now between my legs is just a mangled mess of flesh and loose skin and blood. My clitoris is gone, and I know that you have it. It has always belonged to you.

I try to listen for you, wondering where you are and why I am here all alone. But my ears are ringing in my head. You’ve no doubt cracked my skull. I can feel my heart beating weakly inside my chest. I ache to see you one last time. I count my breaths and hold onto life waiting to worship you.

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Then you’re there.  Standing over me. That gorgeous smile, teeth covered in blood, glaring down at me. The tip of your blade glistens in the air above my face. A single tear runs down my face because I got to see you one last time. Now it is time to take what is yours. My life, my blood, my pain.

Taboo phone sex with a stiff

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He was very attractive: dark hair, tall, and confident. I crossed his path on the way to work only because I took a different route from a friend’s house downtown. Otherwise, I would have never seen him. But, as fate would have it, luck was on my side. I followed him for a little over a week; I knew where he went for dry cleaning and what days; who he was fucking when he could tear himself away from work; and even how he treated his clients. I became a little obsessed, even planting a recording device in his office and car. He was a ruthless stock broker; and, the more I learned about his method of cheating the system, the more I liked him. In fact, I was having second thoughts about killing him; but, of course, my nature got the best of me.

It was not difficult at all… I followed him home like I have done so many times; and, of course he was on his cell phone, making deals. I waited until he had finished his conversation and walked through the door to what should be a sanctuary. I tranquilized him and then drug his limp body to his desk, which I thought fitting to make a holding table. I had drilled holes, attached cuffs, and tried to make it as pretty as possible while scarring the slick mahogany wood. When he awoke, he didn’t struggle; rather, he tried to barter with me. Poor bastard. That made me like him even more.

I had brought an x acto knife and several tools. I sliced into his creamy flesh that probably had never had a bruise; I watched with satisfaction as his rich blood dripped onto the plush white carpet. I told him what I was carving into his flesh and we talked as I did so; I had to stage this carefully and thought that an angry client would be the best potential suspect. After I was done, then I could begin the fun: I sliced both of his nipples, exposing the tissue and taunting him with his own dangling nipples. Then, I dug my heel in the wounds. I sawed off his legs, the bloody masses falling to the ground with thuds. Gurgling blood, he stopped convulsing, and I knew he was dead. Finally, I did something that I hadn’t done in over a decade: I took off my clothes and mounted him, fucking his cock until I came several times. I realized that must have been my ultimate motive…since his dick was the one thing that I had left unharmed.

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Blair Meets the Puppetmaster

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Help me. I have been kidnapped by a deranged doll maker. I have been held captive for days , while he conducts evil, painful experiments on me. He has deprived me of food and water.  And, I am constantly in some form of suspension like a life size marionette doll. In fact, he told me I was doll like and he wanted to use me to create the perfect life size marionette. What the fuck? Those dolls are creepy. Always in horror movies, taunting people, scaring brats. Who does this guy think he is? The Dr. Frankenstein of dolls? I tried to beg and plead with him, but he keeps shocking me and stringing me up from the ceiling. He said next he was gonna cut my limbs and sew string through them and even slice my mouth open like the Joker to give me the authentic look of a marionette doll. He is gonna dismember and torture me so he can have his own personal creepy ass doll. Who is he, The Puppetmaster?  This sick, evil, sadistic mother fucker is enjoying my pain, my screams, my starvation. He says I’m just a stupid, worthless cunt and no one will miss me.  He says all girls should be seen but never heard and that is why we make the perfect dolls. You don’t agree with him , do you? Please someone help me.  Anyone. I will be a good girl; I will be quiet. You can do whatever you want to me, just let me live and get me the fuck out of this house of horrors.

Down South

Where have I been, you may be asking yourselves. Well I don’t have to answer to you motherfuckers! I went to a concert in Mobile, Alabama and got fucking turned around because the goddamn toll both stiffed me a dollar twenty-six. Are you fucking shitting me?! That stupid ass bitch stole from Bianca. So I was all enraged and ready to twist a neck off when I realized I was going the wrong way. The hell? Turns out I was in some redneck dive called Pascagoula. I crossed the state lines . . . I know what you’re thinking, so shut your damn trap. It’s an evil, sick ass place. Just because it’s bumfuck Mississippi doesn’t mean they’re gonna hand you sweet tea in a mason jar or some shit like that. Fuck that! It’s a wild ass neighborhood. Most of the citizens consider the day wasted if they haven’t violated a goat by noon. It’s sickeningly dark there. One wrong turn, and you’ll wind up in the trunk of a Cadillac, never to be seen or heard from again. So of course I took this opportunity to explore. I headed straight for the Brass Monkey. It might as well be called The Drunk Asshole Bar, because the company was wicked! When I was leaving, I spotted a guy trying to break into my car. Not. fucking. okay. I reached for the crowbar I keep in my purse and bashed him in the fucking head. He grunted and fell to the cement. I just kept beating and smashing the metal bar into his skull until it exploded with red goo and I kicked him aside, slid into my vehicle, and drove away. Byebye Mississippi. I don’t have to fear any thing or any place. You fuckers fear ME.

The sound of my switchblade

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Have you ever heard the sound of a switchblade knife open?  It is a very distinct sound. When I am hunting, they always hear it. I make sure of it. It is a necessary sound. As is the sound of their throat as I cut it.

She was breathless from the chase, ah my old familiar hunting grounds. So many deciding factors in her fear. The dark, the confusion, her scrambling to run so fast as she falls and tries to get up. She is already bloody and dirty by the time I subdue her. And as always, I catch my prey. It is pay up time.

She hides as best she can, but I can smell her fear, like a bloodhound their scent always leads me to them. I think its the mixture of adrenaline and sweat, mixed with whatever stale and sickly soaps and perfumes these cunts always wear. That is how I can find them easily, they are so predictable.

As I approach my prey, it is deathly silent. And in the quiet dark all you can hear…is my switchblade.

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Alice with an ‘A’

 

‘A’ is for Alice. ‘A’ is for awesome…and it also stands for asshole. That’s right. I’ve been ass fucking lately. I find it’s best to do without any lube. Not on me, of course. I prefer to watch a little one get reamed while I chomp on some popcorn from a safe vantage point nearby. It makes me laugh so hard when their itty bitty eyes get wide in fear and they whimper and shriek in pain. It makes my wet pussy hole get nice and turned on, too. I always want to fuck a stiff dick after watching a tiny, precious little munchkin get used and abused by a big, strong adult. Haha. I guess I have a weird sense of humor, but don’t try to lie to me, baby. You like it, too, now don’t you.

Opportunity

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Ugh… those worthless little sluts that wander around the mall after school are the bane of my existence. What I wouldn’t give to have one of those whores cowering in fear, locked in a small dog cage, naked and cold. I found one I like last week… she was a short, very skinny little thing in a group of several other carbon copied girls. Every single one was wearing a pair of very tight skinny jeans, a poorly designed triable patterned crop top and a pair of those god awful TOMS shoes. Every Single. Girl. As a small group of three other teens walked by, one chubby, one fat and one gay they made quite a few snarky comments. Oh what I wouldn’t give to slice the scalpel I have in my bag between their thin little rib cages and puncture their lungs… or perhaps slitting their throats is the way to go… I’ve read that if you slice through the Larynx that the vicim will drown in their own blood, gasping of air as the very life-force of the body that distributes oxygen deprives them of it. Oh what I wouldn’t do for an opportunity… 

Do You Want to Cook a Girl?

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I have some very dark fantasies.  Dark desires that just get darker as the days go on. I have one master I speak with who understands my desires, gets the psychology behind my deep sick twisted fantasy world. See, I get so wet thinking about being eaten. Not in the vanilla sense of  having my pussy eaten and licked; but in the  twisted sense of being cooked alive and eaten.  There are tons of cannibal porn sites on the internet that I masturbate to; movies and pictures of hot women like me being kidnapped, tortured and cooked. I want to star in a movie like “How to Cook a Girl,” but I want it to be real. I want it to be a snuff film. Do you have fantasies of cooking a hot bitch who snubbed you? Do  just have certain cravings that hamburger or chicken can’t satisfy? Do you get off on hunting a stranger, kidnapping her, then cooking her to a slow, torturous death? You know I look tasty. You know I look like every bitch who ever humiliated you. You know you want to be my Hannibal Lector. Let’s cook up a hot nasty dark scenario where I meet my ultimate demise in your stomach. I bet I am of so yummy.

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