Category: Snuff phone sex

The Hunter

“In my mind’s eye my thoughts light fires in your cities.”
― Charles Manson

My half-brother is having a baby. Well, his slut fuck wife anyway. Wanna know a secret? Last night I closed my eyes and I dreamed about it . . . the creaky halls, warped floor boards, and silent groans of their Hollywood Hills home. As I climbed in through the kitchen window, echoing sounds ricocheted across the shadowy darkness. Passing the garbage disposal, and taking special note of where is was . . . I climbed upstairs, twisting around the banister, and opening the bedroom door, casting light from the hall across the room. While Bradley rubbed Hayley’s fat bloated preggo stomach, I leaned on my baseball bat for support. And when the lights started flickered on and off in the hall, where my hand was playing with the switches, my halfling got up to go check it out like the “good man.” I reached in my waistband, retrieved the shotgun I’d hidden down the leg of my sweatpants, and blew his fucking brains out. Cocked the piston, aimed it at his third eye, and, he didn’t have time to react with anything more than utter disbelief before I pulled the trigger. “Bye bye Bradley,” I whispered to him. His head snapped backward as it simultaneously splattered against the wall in a mass of bone, blood, brains, and dripping flesh. The sound of the gunpowder blowing back and the shell taking off his head sent shivers up and down my spine. I needed that. I was getting high. Without taking a breath or a pause, I dropped the gun where his head used to be. His body collapsed to the floor, nothing left of him except the shoulders-down. The scream from his fat breeding slut meant I charged in there with a Cheshire grin on my happy fucking face without even a pause or a breath. She was trying to get up from bed, so I whacked that bitch’s kneecaps out with the bat. CRACK! I didn’t want her getting away. She let out an ear-piercing scream. Such a worthless used-up pussy she is. Like a warbling, fluid fantasy, she fell to the floor groaning in horrible utter agony and I grabbed the slut by her hair. “Tell me what scum you are,” I seethed down at her. She obliged, begging for her baby’s life. “No,” I smirked, “I don’t think so.”

Royal Sadists Meet for Dinner

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One of my oldest friends and mentors was visiting for the weekend. He tossed his luggage into the guest room without even entering it. He said, “Let’s go eat.” I began to move toward the kitchen; but, he reprimanded me, shaking his finger in my face, “No, no. We must hunt it, first.”

His evil grin sent chills through my body. I had almost forgotten about his predilection for human flesh. As if he could read my mind, he added, “Of course, my dear, you may torture it first.”

And, nearly as soon as we sat down on a park bench nearly adjacent to my house, here she came: our dinner. She was leisurely walking, and my mentor waved her down. His idle chit-chat evaporated from my mind as I examined her tone shoulders and sleek physique. But, then, I saw what drew my mentor to her: her ass. Plump, succulent, yet still muscular. He always did love asses, and it was comforting that some things never change.

I vaguely remember hearing words like, “my daughter” and “dinner”; I don’t know why I was surprised when she followed us back to the house. After all, it would be silly that my mentor could have lost his magical touch; in fact, I looked at his aging beard and thought that the exact contrary was true.

We enjoyed a glass of wine together as our guest became foggy, tentatively grabbing her head and finally following off her chair. I wish he hadn’t done that; I like them to be awake when I play with them. But, he helped hoist her into my torture chair, I had a better idea. I dropped her body and walked briskly to get the largest metal pan that I had. Of course, I had planned to use it for something like this—but now was the perfect occasion.

We placed her in the pan and I began prodding her. Whatever he had given her was strong. He pilfered through my spice rack and kitchen while I used a pitch fork to open up a few wounds. “I usually like different parts in different spices, cooked separately; but I think I’d like to make an exception given your beautiful set-up here, darling,” he whispered over my shoulder. I beamed with pride and returned to slicing her stomach open to put some of his spices. She yelled in pain, and I was happy that she was awake. I didn’t want her to miss the fun.

He told me which organs to remove, such as the intestines; I followed his instructions, enjoying her screams and gushing blood. I was sad to hear her cries stifle and die. He had already turned on the large oven that I had installed mainly just for him (and a few other friends). We lifted her up and slid her in. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the room and my mentor inhaled as if it were the sweetest aroma that he’d ever encountered. We took her out of the oven a few times; mainly, he was trying to help me satisfy my lust for blood. I’d slice into her, sauté her, tenderizing our dinner.

Dinner, indeed, was magnificent. We laughed, reminisced, drank more wine, and planned the evening’s agenda. “My darling, Victor Hugo’s last words were, ‘I see a dark light.’ Shall we go out and claim it for ourselves, my darling queen Jezabel?” He extended his hand and off we went into the night.

Evil Beginnings

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One of my favorite poets named Anthony Hecht said, “It doesn’t seem to me strange that little ones should like the macabre, the sensational, and the forbidden.” I wish my parents would have felt the same way. But, they didn’t. Instead, they pushed me around different mental wards, physically reprimanded me, and whatever they thought was best. The irony is that those experiences only helped intensify the darkness inside of me and gave me ingenious ideas about how to torture my victims.

For instance, in the ward, I met this young girl who was about my age. She was crazy, but I still found ways that I could learn from her. She would slash her wrists and write messages on the wall. But what I remember most is this one time that she had to go to a funeral. She was able to choose one “friend,” and she chose me, probably because most young people and grown-ups were scared of me.

So, we got to the funeral; instead of sitting with her family members, she walked directly to the front and examined the body with curiosity. With determination, she lifted her small body above the coffin and to the corpse. She opened the dead old woman’s mouth, grabbed her tongue between her little fingers, and produced a pair of scissors. I don’t know where she was able to get the scissors, but it seemed that she had a plan: she cut off the purple tongue and without blinking put it in her pocket. She closed the old woman’s mouth and turned around.

I don’t know if anyone saw what she did; but no one did anything except rip the scissors away from her hand. Maybe all the grown-ups were too busy morning, or whatever they do; or maybe they knew that they couldn’t do anything about the crazy girl and just pretended that it didn’t happen. Regardless, at that moment, I felt a sisterly bond with the girl. She was one of the first to give me the courage to embrace the dark side inside of me, and to help it grow. From time to time, she’d take out the tongue at the ward and we’d both look at it, poke at it, smell it. I was the first to lick it; and she giggled. I still wonder if anyone took the tongue away from her; why would they, what could they do with it? After all, how could they appreciate such a thing of beauty, this mutilated tongue?

Be Careful What You Wish For Cuz You Just Might Get It

You know that saying, “Be Careful What You Wish For Cuz You Just Might Get It”, well if you desire and crave the pleasure of my company you had better really understand what exactly you’re getting into.

You see, I know what a sick fuck you are and how hard you try to hide it, but I deal with men like you all the time and I can see right through you. You can’t help but go to all those taboo and snuff sites on the internet and look at all those yummy young little ones that get your cock so fucking hard.

You think about it as you lie in bed next to your boring as hell wife who can’t bother herself to even suck your dick anymore. Fantasizing and jacking off to those hot, x-rated pictures of those bald pink pussies is as far as you’ve even gone, but if you ache to share your most deviant and perverted twisted fantasies with this delicious accomplice you had better have the balls to take it all the way.

Don’t you really want to hear for yourself their cries for Mommy as your fucking their tight, perfect little cunts? Really feel their soft smooth skin rubbing against yours as you violently steal their innocence away and finally satisfy that dark, sadistic craving your p cock has been aching over for so long.

So, do you think you’re man enough to explore all those extreme, brutal, dark fantasies and bring them out into the light with me? Mmmm, well just keep that saying in mind because I always take it further and harder than you ever thought possible.

Snuff: Silence is Bloody

Snuff phone sex Jezabel

I was in the mood to torture.  But, when am I not?  At the café, some little brat was alternating between pouting, yelling, and crying.  I wanted to fucking slap the good-for-nothing piece of shit since her mom wouldn’t.  Finally, I told the mother, “Hey, I’m a governess; I’m really good with little ones and I could help you control your daughter more effectively.”  The dumb cunt believed me!  Maybe she was just as tired of the brat as I was; well, I’d make sure that we’d both be rid of her soon.

Along with my coffee, I bought the disgusting munchkin a doughnut just to shut her trap until we got to my house.  When we entered, she tried to take in the entire decadent, dark mystique that pervaded my house.  “Do you know what happens to bad girls?” I asked her, without really waiting for an answer. 

I pinned her small body down on the leather couch, wrapping small pieces of leather to keep her limbs in place.  Then, I picked up a torch; I was going to give her something to scream about!  The fire erupted and began to sear her flesh.  Yummy.  She began moaning in her throat because she couldn’t move her lips. 

And, then, I did what I wanted to do ever sense I laid eyes on her: I laced some of the leather through a needle; starting at the corner of her mouth, I sewed the little piece of shit’s mouth shut.  I had to look at my artistry for several minutes as I watched her eyes roll back in her head.  I threw some water on her so she would revive.  It was time: I took the sharp end of the fireplace poker and started pounding her skull.  I loved the sound when it cracked and spilled out blood…her brains lying on the floor at my feet.

Bloody Sexual Pleasure

Snuff phone sex Pandora2

For days, I’ve had this guy calling me.  He wanted to play; and, I was finally in the mood to oblige him.  So, we met at the BDSM club down the street.  This man wanted to please me so very much; and I was about to please him…to the point of pain and probably death.

I restrained his hands above his head with leather cuffs.  Then, I used a soft feather, tracing it all over his naked body.  He was already aroused, looking at my luscious tips and leather gear.  He was relishing in the fact that he could see every inch of my body.

Next, I took an industrial-size vibrator and began sliding it all over his body; I paid extra attention to his asshole and nipples.  Then, I moved the vibrator up and down the shaft of his cock, gently touching his balls and tip.  His head was leaning back and I knew he was about to cum.  I told him that he could, and he did.  But the fun hadn’t even begun.

I picked up a couple of prongs that were hooked to an electrical device; and, then, I clamped them on his balls.  Now the fun was really going to begin.  I attached a couple of nipple clamps, that weighed four pounds each, to his hard nipples; his nipples were tearing.  The flesh wouldn’t last long.  Then, I picked up a buffer; I revved it up and winked at him.

Snuff phone sex Pandora1

 

I pushed the fierce electric, vibrating machine to his crotch.  He instantly yelled because of the power; and, without my consent, he came loudly, blood gushing between his legs.  I rebuked him for not asking for my permission; and, he apologized and said it would never happen again.  I chuckled because I intended on really challenging that statement.

Over and over again, I pushed the machine against his crotch.  I watched as the nipple clamps finally gave way, leaving his fleshy chest torn.  I could see the tissue!  Yes, I had played with him as he requested, and now he would never forget it!  Now, it was time to finish the job: I took a crop to his bloody groin and began beating his fleshy mess as hard as I could.  Finally, his penis ruptured; and, having lost so much blood, I stabbed him in the chest…but not before I cut off his penis, then trampled it under my boots.

Bitch in a Well

Snuff phone sex Reagan

I watched her brats for her and now she is gonna stiff me my cash? She tried to tell me that I hurt her wee ones and now she was gonna call the cops? Who the fuck does she think she is messing with. I’ll show her! Now her and her bratty ankle biters will just have to disappear!

I am going to throw that cunt and her offspring down a well. Just like in that movie “The Ring”.  I want them  to stay alive for more than seven days though. So I found a well that no one even knows about.  I will put my travel trailer near it, toss those bitches in, and listen to them scream for as long as I can keep them alive.

Snuff phone sex Reagan

First day the family is down there I want to throw some rotten food to them. That way when they are hungry they will have no choice but to eat it. Then every day after that I will throw things down there to drive them mad! Like rats, leaches, even insects that survive in the water but love to bite! Every now and than I will tell them they are not going to get out of that well. Eventually as the screams grow tired I wont have anything to feed my amusement.. so I will just have to start filling it up slowly. Soon the screams will stop, and I will have to cover the well up.. so all you see is the ring…  

snuff phone sex Reagan

Things That Make Them Go Boom

Going through the basement and spring cleaning I found a box of goodies. Left over fireworks from the fourth of July and a couple of little goodies that my friend in the military gave me to play with, a little brick of C-4. I remember when he gave it to me and told me to go blow some shit up I had all kinds of ideas and yet somehow I put it up and forgot about it. But now my cunt is dripping with cum as my mind decides what to do with my goodies. There are a couple of little twits that have been irking my last nerve over the last few months. I have been waiting for something special enough to take care of them and I believe this is it. I can see them shaking and naked right here in my basement, tied face to face. I can feel the sweet softness of their asses as I spread them wide and begin inserting fireworks in them before lighting them and watching as they jump and scream only to become a tangled mess that falls to the floor unable to escape the pain and horror of it. But the best part will come when I drag them to the field behind my house and break off small amounts of C-4, attaching a little piece to a finger and a toe before detonating it. Slowly blowing off bits and pieces of their bodies until I am left with nothing but two bloody torsos. That is when I will use the last of the C-4, placing it between their bellies and detonating it, enjoying the feel of the pieces of flesh blowing apart and hitting me as they fly into indistinguishable chunks of flesh. torture phonesex boom

Haunted Cabin

torture phonesex cabinSo urban legend has it that deep in the woods is a cabin. It is supposed to have belonged to a family a long time ago. The grand father went crazy and chopped the whole family up with a chain saw and then killed himself. It is said to be haunted and that at night you can hear the crazy laughter of the mad old man and the sound of his chain saw. Of course I had to go looking for it. Just the thought made me crazy fucking horny. I would love to get fucked by the mad man’s ghost. As I am walking in the distance I hear a faint hum. Where is that coming from? I am deep in the woods I follow the sound and soon I see the silhouette of a cabin. But there is no electricity out here, what is that noise? The old man’s chain saw? When I get to the cabin I can see a generator sitting on the porch and a gas can next to it. Some one must be squatting out here and my cunt gets wet thinking of how I can fuck him out here in this haunted cabin. When I open the door I get the best surprise ever. There is a white table in the middle of the room and a cord connected to the generator that has an autopsy saw on the other end. Blood is ever where and the body is laid open as if I interrupted the procedure. When I pick up the instrument and continue the procedure, he appears with a rock hard cock and a wicked smile and I know we are about to have some real fun!torture phonesex body

Highway 666

There’s a little place I know where the dead walk and roam . . . a place of evil that’s trapped inside the walls. Can you hear the groans? It’s sick. I want to know what’s underneath. I scratch at the antique paper coating the places I can’t go . . . slivers pierce my fingernails and rodents bite my ankles here. I want to escape. But it’s too late. Once you let it in, you have to stay inside. There’s no way out. You’re trapped here now. Look into my eyes. Do you see my soul? It’s black and aged . . . here, you should never go. I can’t stop manipulating. Every word out of my mouth is a lie belated, waiting. Waiting to sink my claws deep in you and drag you to the depths of all unholy creation. The world through a monster’s eye. There’s a cabin off the road on Highway 666. It’s a shack I go to sometimes when I’m in the mood for a little hunting and driving. Sometimes both at once–other times, I’m a patient little fuck. When it gets dark outside and the trees are swaying back and forth, I hear whispering in those hollow logs that echos through the weeping willows. The last time I was there, I could’ve sworn I saw a stupid bitch running around out there. It was about 2AM, and I decided to go see for myself. When I got out, I heard crying coming from all directions. “Come here honey,” I called out in a sweet-as-sugar voice, dripping with the kind of evil that grabs your ankles and twists around you. Squeezes the good outta you from the inside out. Takes it, destroys it, and leaves you dark and cold forever . . . I found the little twerp sitting underneath a big maple tree out in the woods around the cabin. I took her hair in my hands and looked deep into her eyes . . . She was shaking and shivering in fear–guess she didn’t like what stared back at her.