Category: Snuff phone sex

Crash: Part One

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One of my friends told me that I had to see this underground scene where people are obsessed with famous car crashes and recreate them. But, the beauty, he said, was that they recreate them with authenticity…which means that real people die in them! I was fascinated.

When we arrived, I met this guy who had scars all over his face and body; he was proud of them, letting me touch them. He seemed to get a sexual thrill out of me touching and admiring them. One especially long scar was on his chest; it was almost over an inch wide, and it must have been one gorgeous gash when it happened. I would have liked to put my finger in that bloody tissue before they’d sewn it up. I scratched my long nails against it, smiling with excitement, thinking I might get the chance to do that later.

The show was about to begin. I could see a mother and her daughter crawl into the front seat of one; and, a drunk guy crawled into the other car. The game was on: two older cars (that had no significance to me because I wasn’t born before the significant crash happened) revved up their engines. The crowd hooped and hollered. I felt like I had found kindred spirits.

When the cars collided, the sound of bent metal permeated the air; smoke, gasoline hung close. The little brat was ejected out of the car like a cannon ball. The bloody small body lay only a few feet away from us; I was compelled to walk over to it, but I was also enjoying the woman stagger out of the car. Her face was bloody and people began to clap once she slung her one leg out of the car. Apparently, she had succeeded perfectly with amputating one of her legs during the crash. She walked a pace or two and fell over, presumably dead from the gushing blood. The drunk guy emerged with blood to his head but a bottle of beer in his hand. Everyone applauded and my thirst for blood and violence was far from clenched…

Happy Bloody Father’s Day

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Since it’s Father’s Day, I visited my grandfather in the nursing home. His glazed eyes stared in the distance, but his mind was as sharp as it always had been. When I asked about the women waving to me, he said it was his girlfriend. She looked just a like a little grandma, so sweet and unassuming, as she played cards with some of the other women. He sensed my confusion and said, “Now, honey, you of all people should know that things are not always as they seem.” Granddaddy leaned down to me and whispered, “We’re in love. And, she’s one of us.” I was in disbelief; how could this Betty-Crocker-looking grandma be a suitable partner for the man that I fashioned my evil side from?

He reached into his pocket and produced a pinky; it was grey but he had carried it around for a while. My granddaddy didn’t usually keep trophies, so I was curious. He said, “See this—she did this for me when we had our first kill together.” To my delightful surprise, I found that age and blindness hadn’t withered his evil spirit. He said that they would go on outings at night in order to find little ones and girls to torture. I knew his favorite were the plump athletic ones; and, I was happy that some things hadn’t changed.

The woman had a friend who owned a pizza place, so sometimes they’d go back there and create feasts out of their victims. According to him, she had never done anything like this before, but she was a natural. “Loves the little ones,” he chuckled. “And, you know that’s just fine with me. She can steal a brat in pure daylight, take out its heart and eat it, and people just smile at her with blood dripping from her chin.” I looked over at the woman with a missing pinky. What a perfect ruse, really: an old blind man and a grandma. He leaned down and whispered, “We’re planning on going on a road-trip.” I knew that meant that he would find a way to let me know which killings were his as they traveled. I kissed his cheek and left. For the rest of the day, any time I looked at an old lady, I wondered what kind of evil lurked beneath the surface.

An aunt’s gift

Taboo phone sex Pandora

I love my niece, but her taste in toys is horrendous. I blame it on the options, though. There are all these stupid, skinny little clean-skinned dolls smiling behind their clear plastic cover. And, the stupid larger versions, don’t forget them! Really, it’s just creepy.

So that got me to thinking about creating a better toy for her, one that would remind her of Aunt Pandora. I bought a doll, painted its face zombie white and began looking around for some red hair dye. I almost splashed some of the dye on the doll…but, I had a better idea: why not use the real thing for blood? It was easy, really; I just went to the park, chose one of the lambs that had wondered off from her mom. She was easy to lure, especially with the doll that would soon be transformed. Apparently, she had never seen a doll like this. And, she never would again; I would make sure of that. I was going to honor my niece by killing this sickeningly sweet thing. My niece would not be like this, I told myself; no, she would be like me.

My evil heart sang as I carved into the little brat’s flesh. As I sprayed blood on the doll, the snotty-nosed brat cried. I shook the doll in her face and cackled as the cunt-stain cried louder. Finally, I had enough: I stabbed her in the chest, ripped open her rib cage, and there it was: her heart. I brought it to my lips and inhaled. I cut a few slivers and then soaked it in black ink before popping the doll’s head off and placing the heart in there. Now, the doll was transformed! I handcrafted a death certificate to go along with my gift. I couldn’t wait to see my niece play with her new, favorite toy!

Specials

Carla the Cunt

As a country girl, I know my guns and ammo. As a cheated girlfriend, I know how to settle things. That’s why I planned a day of target practice with my best friend, Carla. Carla really likes a bad girl. And I am a very very bad girl. And she loves watching me shoot my guns. It turns her on so much. And I have something VERY special planned for Carla today! I let her get all worked up watching me shoot my guns. I even let her hold a couple. When I saw her nipples get hard I knew it was time to play. I pulled her into my arms and started rubbing my still warm 44 against her face. And then slid it down to her hard nipples. She let out a little moan and melted against me. Carla is such a whore! I started ripping off her clothes as I used my gun to slid between her legs. The slut was getting so fucking wet for me! She dropped to the floor and spread her legs wide. And I started to use my gun as her dildo and fucking her tight little hole. I have always loved what a fucking freak and a slut Carla is. That is until I found out that Carla was FUCKING my man. That is just a NO go! She can fuck over anybody she wants but me!
When I had Carla worked up into a frenzy. I motioned for John to come in. He is the owner of the shooting range. And he helped me set this up. Carla instantly tried to get up.

She started yelling “ what the fuck are you doing in here?” I had to cut her off! I let her know “I invited him here” John walked right up and punched Carla in the face. She fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. John jumped on her and started beating the shit out of her!. That is his thing. Carla was trying to beg for help but couldn’t get any words out. Every time she opened her fucking mouth John shut it! After punching her face over and over he just had to fuck the whore. He wrapped his hands around throat and squeezed as he pounded her. She just kept pleading with her eyes for me to help.

Fuck that slut! I am helping myself.

Crisis Mode: Crack Whores

Sometimes I have to go on a little mission to collect. Dealing with people that are just asking for punishment is very disheartening. In the master bedroom of my Aunt Shelby’s apartment, I scanned the room and tsked to myself. On the floor, empty bottles lay smashed around a chipped plate with flies buzzing over a foul lump of meat. It did not look cooked. I saw a smelly, balled-up blanket with mysterious twigs and branches twisted within. It was stuffed underneath the corner desk. Something was moving inside . . . “Shelby,” I called, my voice echoing across the dimly lit room, “come out, come out, wherever you are.” My voice took on a singsong quality as I moved across the scratched hardwood floor. My combat boots only served to scuff it further, which made me smile. I found her shivering in the bathtub, a cigarette in one side of her mouth which had long since burned out. She was butt naked and huddled against the filthy tiles behind her. The hoops pierced through her erect nipples glistened against the light of the single ceiling bulb. I made soothing sounds and advanced on her sympathetically. My eyes flashed with the danger of a predatory she knew only too well. Reaching out, I pet the skin along her shoulder–right over the snake tattoo with a single cross on its back. “That won’t help you now,” I remarked. She shook and stared straight ahead, appearing unable to see me or acknowledge my presence. So I felt I had to help her. I reached down, took the cigarette from her mouth, and rubbed the butt in her face, scalding the skin and eliciting a piercing shriek of pain. “Hi Aunty Shelby, doll,” I beamed down at her bubbling skin. “So glad I got your attention . . . now you’re dead meat.”

Teenage Head

 Teen phone sex

Teen phone sex with a mortician is quite different than anything you’ve ever experienced… My wicked impulses and bloody appetite are unlike anything you’ve ever seen—and too cruel to even depict in films, which wouldn’t do the thrill justice.

I’ve been a little swamped with work lately, and that’s fine because I love my work. However, fixing bodies for their loved ones is not what enough to satiate my darkness. Sensing this, one of my friends asked me to come over; and, though I politely said “No,” he persisted. When I arrived, he had a young girl strapped to a chair, gagged with a handkerchief. He looked at me and watched as a smile spread across my cherry red lips.

I wondered how he had found someone so young, and he told me that he had put out a couple of advertisements for a babysitter, which was a perfect ruse. He had selected this one because he believed that she would appeal to me and because (he confessed) she had big tits. I rolled my eyes, but I was pleased with his selection.
We spent the entire night torturing the teen; my friend, poking large holes in her nipples and ripping the tissue off. Then I stabbed the pink tissue, watching the blood gush. He tore off her pants and panties, too; her eyes widened, thinking we were going to indulge our rape fantasies. And, we were, just not the way she thought.

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I grabbed a machete and began cutting through her neck, that tender skin. How beautiful it was to watch the grey color wash over her face as she breathed her last laborious breath! I continued to carve the head, take slivers of the brain for some soup that I planned to make. And this left my friend to her torso, which he straddled and began fucking. As he was about to cum, he placed his fingers inside the gaping hole where her head used to be; I watched his ass cheeks clinch as he came in the corpse. How silly, I thought; I much preferred not to play with my food. He began looking at the head; after I carved her up really good, I’d let him have it…I knew he wanted to put his dick in her sweet teenage mouth. After all, he had planned to do this in order to cheer me up—and it had worked!

Endgame

Then I grabbed my knife and used the handle to spread her plump, pale, fat ass cheeks. I whistled lowly. “Well, would you look at that,” I narrated, running a finger from her pert, tight asshole to her soft knocked-up vaghole. Then I trailed the sharp knife around her cunt so she could feel it and know what was coming to her. “It’s cold, huh?” I whispered down at her. “I like it like that.” She started bawling feebly, wiggling her ass in my face as though she expected to escape. I plunged the sharp blade into her babyhole and listened to her horrible scream as it sliced through her fragile canal. Then I smiled and began moving it in and out of her. Wiggling it back and forth and fucking her with the pocket knife. Hayley was hysterical, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and making tons of noise. Shivering and arching her back, contorting her body strangely. Blood poured out of her, all of the cuts from the sharp tool and the jerking meant that her warm, thick, red blood was pooling out at a fast rate and was already coating my entire hand. Listening to her pitiful cries, I mocked her. Feigning sympathy, I leaned in close and cooed: “Do you like the way I fuck you?” I pulled the pocket knife out of her cunt with one last stab that released a howl from her parched throat. I knew I’d nicked her cervix and it’d hurt like fuck. Then I flipped her over and took a look at my progress. She wouldn’t last much longer–Hayley was already delirious, very injured, and near dead. I stabbed her tummy with my blade and started cutting, smiling all the way. I was going to get that baby out, sever the cord, and stick the fetus down the garbage disposal where it belongs . . . but I woke up. My half-brother is a real dickhole, and made the mistake of betraying my family and sending my Mom to jail a few months ago. This dream will become a reality . . . he’s going to get what’s cumming to him–and his little wife, too . . . I guess it’s just like in the movies. Everyone has an endgame. It’s too bad for them that theirs has already been decided . . . by me.

Mr. Self Destruct

“Mr Self Destruct”

I am the voice inside your head
and I control you
I am the lover in your bed
and I control you
I am the sex that you provide
and I control you
I am the hate you try to hide
and I control you
I take you where you want to go
I give you all you need to know
I drag you down I use you up
Mr. Self-destruct
I speak religion’s message clear
and I control you
I am denial guilt and fear
and I control you
I am the prayers of the naive
and I control you
I am the lie that you believe
and I control you
I take you where you want to go
I give you all you need to know
I drag you down I use you up
Mr. Self-destruct
I am the needle in your vein
and I control you
I am the high you can’t sustain
and I control you
I am the pusher I’m a whore
and I control you
I am the need you have for more
and I control you
I am the bullet in the gun
and I control you
I am the truth from which you run
and I control you
I am the silencing machine
and I control you
I am the end of all your dreams
and I control you
I take you where you want to go
I give you all you need to know
I drag you down I use you up
Mr. Self-destruct
 

Head Like A Hole

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If there is ever a theme song that I would choose for my sick and twisted games.. it would be Nine inch Nails… Head Like a Hole.. it gets this bitches blood pumping! Mmm I like putting holes in heads… 

God money, I’ll do anything for you
God money, just tell me what you want me to
God money, nail me up against the wall
God money, don’t want everything, he wants it all

accomplice phone sex ReaganNo, you can’t take it, no, you can’t take it
No, you can’t take that away from me
No, you can’t take it, no, you can’t take it
No, you can’t take that away from me

Head like a hole, black as your soul
I’d rather die than give you control
Head like a hole, black as your soul
I’d rather die than give you control

Bow down before the one you serve
You’re going to get what you deserve
Bow down before the one you serve
You’re going to get what you deserve

God money’s not looking for the cureaccomplice phone sex Reagan
God money’s not concerned about the sick among the pure
God money, let’s go dancing on the backs of the bruised
God money’s not one to choose

Do you have a song that you like to imagine killing to? And after the life has left that young body, do you have a song you like to fuck that cold dead bloody while singing? I think we have a lot in common, don’t you?

Cum be my accomplice…

Accomplice phone sex JadeI’m a Snuff lover fascinated with torture, accomplice, rape fantasies! Bring you Most erotic, sadistic fantasy to me so we can indulge in our interests together. I love plotting a swift kidnapping of a sweet, virgin little one, imagine how we can make them our sex puppet. Perhaps we will molest their tender flesh over and over until we’re satisfied. Are you up for it?

Cutting and slowly killing gets my juices going. The thought having you hold them down while I skin them alive is quite addictive, just wait until they start twitching. The ability to see their blood run through their veins is a high experienced like never before. Let’s be partners in crime, I have a feeling we will make an excellent team.