Category: Taboo phone sex

Baseball Bat Fucking

I remember you from class. The nerd. The dork. The weird guy that no one would go out with, including me. How did I end up here? The last thing I remember was being at the party, drinking some drinks, and then nothing… Then I wake up here, tied to your bed, with you naked in front of me with your cock out and stroking it as you let you eyes roll over my naked body. I ask you what the hell you think your doing. You calmly say, “Stephanie, I’ve wanted you for so long, and now you are mine.” I tell you you’re a nutjob and to untie me. You spit in my face and suddenly turn very angry.

You don’t seem like the geek we teased in school – there is something terrifying about the look on your face, like you’re going to do what you want. My pussy shudders, and I can’t believe I start to get wet just from your small show of power. I can’t help but glance down at your cock as you stroke it, and its huge. Who would have thought you could be hiding such a gorgeous dick inside those jeans all those years? As you spit slides down my face, you reach over the side of the bed and pull out a baseball bat.

I cringe at the bat, not knowing if you plan to hit me with it, and too afraid to ask. You take my legs and  put them back over my head, opening my perfect pink pussy wide for you to see. You take the cold metal bat and place the large end against my glistening slit, and begin to twirl it around, teasing me with the hard cold metal. You ask me if I want to play ball with you, and I I can’t help myself, I say, “Yes”. You spin the bat faster and it begins to twist inside my tight cunt, stretching the opening as far as it will go.

I lose my breath at the width of the bat, and this just feeds your madness, so you begin pushing and turning the bat even harder. It penetrates my tiny pussy and I cry for you to go slow. But you don’t listen, you twist faster and harder and begin to ram me mercilessly with the metal bat. You stroke it in and out with all your strength and I can feel at least 16 inches  of it up inside me, tearing me apart. You’re still stroking your cock with your other hand and tell me to open wide. I open my mouth, and watch as you shoot your hot load all over my tongue. As you cum, the bat stops moving, and I get a small break from the hard fucking you gave me.

You lay down beside me, both our hearts pounding, the bat still inside me. You tell me that the second inning is coming soon, and that I better be ready. You fall asleep, and even though I could probably get my arms free, I chose not to. I lay there, tied to your bed, waiting for you to wake up and give me more. If I would have known what a fucking turn-on you were back in school, you wouldn;t have had to kidnap me like you did tonight….

Knife Play Phone Sex with Venus: How Do You Wanna Be Butchered?

knife play phone sex goth bloodyOctober is my favorite month. Why? Because freaks like me blend in with the natives. During the month of horror and terror, knife wielding psychotics like me are actually celebrated. Knives, hooks, scissors,  axes, metal fingers….. are all thought cool. See silly people think Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhes and Freddy Krueger aren’t real. But there are knife loving socio paths like me whose heroes come straight off the celluloid screen. Every day in October, I butcher someone in the fashion of one of my idols. I have never been caught. Variety and seemingly random victims are the keys to not being caught. 

How would you like to be butchered?

knife play phne sex butcher gothBy a psychopathic wooden puppet named Blade with a knife? By a sweet camper girl named Angela, wielding a big ole butcher knife? Victor Crowley style with a hatchet? Vengeful fisherman style with a rusty old hook? Or maybe you prefer your hook Candyman style with the added benefit of a swarm of bees to sting you to death? Then there are your garden variety crazed killers fond of basic kitchen cutlery like Ghostface , Jack Torrence, Chucky, Dexter or Patrick Bateman? Lizzy Borden style with 50 whacks? Jason style with a menacing machete? Maybe you have mommy issues and would like to be butchered Norman Bates style? Freddy Krueger style with sharp metal fingers?  Hell, I will even go all Fatal Attraction on your ass and kill you and your bunny. My favorite way to butcher is Michael Myers style. Big fucking sharp knife, cold dark stare, never say a word. Just butcher you and move on to the next victim.The possibilities are endless when you have a knife loving  serial killer groupie like me. My only MO is that I use a sharp instrument. I love slicing, cutting and mutilating flesh. Such a turn on to watch a worthless POS bleed. I can imitate any one of my many knife wielding idols.

Indeed October is my favorite month. Tomorrow the games begin. Maybe you will survive, maybe you won’t.  But you will bleed, a lot.

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You Watched Daddy Fuck Me

You said you chose me because I look like a “bad girl”. Even though I was terrified, I was also flattered in some weird way. You told me you watched me for weeks, the way I walk, the way I talk, and every move I made. You said you listened at my window at night while my father fucked me secretly in my bed, and you said you knew I fucking liked it. How did you know what was deep in my heart like that?

I look around the room, and I see pieces of my clothing. Not what I had been wearing today, but panties and stockings from the past several weeks. You’ve been in my house? You had to have been to take these items. You grab a pair of panties I remembered wearing last week, before you took me, and you start licking the crotch. You lick them like there is candy on them, and again, I am flattered rather than disgusted. My pussy starts to tingle as I imagine your tongue actually tasting my pussy.

You’re a dirty old man, obviously sick in the mind and crazy to have taken me the way you did. But you have a confidence about you, an aire of evil that demands respect. You stare in my eyes as you begin to chew the panties. You come towards me, as I lie naked and tied on the table, with my panties still hanging from your mouth. You spit them into my face, and I get a whiff of the sweetness of my cunt mixed with the rank of your saliva. My stomach leaps as I realize you’re going to hurt me. Your stare is like an animal, not a man.

My panties cover part of my vision, but I can see you above me. I feel your breath and then your tongue on one of my nipples. You again tell me what a bad girl I am, and that I am a fucking little whore who lets my daddy fuck me. Without warning, I feel your teeth for an instant and then fire spreads through my body as you bite my nipple right off! I can’t even scream because the pain takes my breath, and you begin to chuckle. You remove the panties from my face, and I see you there, some crazed evil man, with my bloody nipple in your mouth. You spit it on the floor, like its nothing, as my blood runs down the sides of your  mouth. You don’t even wipe it away as you stick your bloody tongue out and move towards my other nipple….

Culinary Exploits

I’ve had this chef pursuing me for some time now, and we’ve flirted a little in crossing paths in visiting our professional knife sharpener friend. Well this chef is a client of my friend that does blacksmithing, metal work, and services numerous culinary masters in proper care for their tools of the trade. One afternoon I was just arriving with a couple of my stilettos, and my favorite butcher and carver knives to have prepped for the weekend. I was planning a pig roast, bar-b-q and bonfire for a gang of my biker friends. I have planned on raiding a pumpkin patch later tonight to grab some pumpkins for some creative party fun.

In passing chef man we conversed briefly and he told me he really wanted me to stop in his restaurant after 9pm he had a surprise for me, and to sweeten the deal, he said he made some chocolate raspberry truffles for me. Well 9pm was still to early for my little raid so I shrugged and said maybe I’ll stop by. I actually schemed a little in my head thinking I could persuade him to assist. He has a black pick up truck that would be much easier for the heist.

I swung by his place on my bike just as the last guest was leaving. Corey greeted me in the dining room where he escorted me to the kitchen. He presented me with these really awesome truffles and poured me a red zinfandel. Sipping the wine and nibbling on a truffle I watched him as he was packing up all of his carving tools in awe. Well, I had no idea you were an culinary artist, Corey.

At that comment he turned to me with a rather glistening large carving knife. I was sitting up on a stainless steel work table as he approached me holding the knife in a rather questionable way. He stood in front of me as I started feeling light headed but was well aware his hand was on my thigh. Attempting to inch away actually seemed to fuel something inside him.

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This look came over his face both his hands where on my thighs thrusting them apart as he ran the razor sharp blade across my inner thigh. Drawing blood he leaned in and started lapping at the slit he made on my thigh. At this point I was losing consciousness. He continued to lap at the crimson stain across my inner thigh moving up his tongue sliding across my clit. He started licking along my pussy lips I could see what he was doing but couldn’t speak or move. He would lick at the cut and then run his tongue with my blood on it over my clit and suck it before probing inside my cunt with his tongue. Going in and out of consciousness I saw him grab another shiny tool. In the little consciousness I had I caught a glimpse of a fair skinned blonde female, naked in the corner tied to a chair. I couldn’t tell if she was alive and kept drifting in and out.

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He wheeled her over in front of me, and reached out to steady me as he lifted the wine to my lips again. It tasted different, iron, warm tangy… mmm… this wasn’t wine. I was awakening a little and he made sure I could see the other female in front of me. He took a smaller paring knife like blade and started running the blade over her flat chest, in a pattern. Yes, a pattern.  It seems he was carving something in this females flesh. He was carving my name across her chest. He went and grabbed another tool, a motorized rotary tool. I tried hard not to watch but he wouldn’t have it.

Corey grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet and had attached a large steel circular blade to the tool. Putting the motorized saw in my hand he guided my hand and blade to this females wrist. Spattering blood her flesh tears the sound of the blade hitting the bone her eyes fling open terror in her face. She makes no noise as her tongue was cut out. Corey looked at me and kissed me forcing the removed tongue in my mouth mouthing for me to chew. He puts the wine to my mouth and i gulp it down. The tongue had been sauteed in balsamic and olive oil, and tasted divine.

“You’re now my accomplice Dusty, why carve pumpkins when we can carve something more fulfilling?”

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Carving in the Field

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I love pumpkin carving season. There are so many evil things I can associate with Halloween. Hunting, capturing, snuffing, and than turning the flesh to art has to be one of my favorite activities. Have you ever looked up the many missing person cases that accumulate right around the harvest season?

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Pumpkin patches can be so much fun. Have you ever gotten lost in the corn maze? Well, if you have than you probably felt the stare of something you can’t quite see? You walk and walk, soon you can not seem to find your way back. I especially love when you enter at dusk and by the time the sun sets you really are lost. No one around to hear you scream when I take you. Drag you into the corn, and off of the maze. You’re grabbing at the corn trying to stop the abduction.  I love watching as you are almost unconscious, and you feel the first cut into your skin. I laugh cause I watch that fear take over you as you can now see the other ones. Precious fear cut into their faces for eternity. Such beauty! All around us an army of bloody scarecrows. Your fate has been sealed.

You finally take your last few raspy breathes as you see me drag one, two, maybe three more to my outside art studio. All ages can have so much fun here! I love a variety of carvings. From the young to the old. I do not discriminate.

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

Kill Yourself Already!

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Hello there, My name is Jade. I am your suicide prevention hotline specialist. I specialize in suicide fantasy phone sex. Whatever your problem is, we can solve it. Life is an option. I know it may feel like no one loves you. But trust me when I say I do. You have so much to live for love. I would hate to see you off yourself. You feel alone, useless, pathetic right? Like no one would give a damn if you died? You feel like the world would be a less fucked up place if you remove yourself from it? Come on sweetie, I need you. I love you! Don’t you dare think of awful things like that! Don’t think about, you being a pathetic wimp. To even think of killing yourself is foolishness. I mean, if you really wanted to do it… you would have done it already right? I mean what’s the fucking use of complaining about your stupid life. Stop fucking whining about it. I mean, I know it’s hard feeling like you’re less of a man. I understand. You don’t compare to your wonderful friends who’s life is complete and fulfilled. Damn love, I just don’t want to see you go. But if I was in your position I would see why you have thoughts of suicide. You know what, just die already! Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said that. Just wrap that rope around your neck and kick the chair, or put all the bullets in, load up and shoot. Fuck, I did it again. Life is an option!! But no one said Death wasn’t an option either. Awww Fuck it, No one fucking cares! Kill yourself already. 

Another Barbie for You

I brought you the blonde you wanted. I am never enough. I am so pathetic and too skinny. You pick out who you want and I get them for you. Why do you keep choosing girls who are nothing like me? They are always so pretty and have huge breasts and blonde hair. Fucking barbie dolls. I am such a piece of shit, I know I can never be everything you desire. I am stuck in this nightmare of sharing you with these sluts who don’t even need another man.

I know thats the only reason you keep me alive. You know how good I have gotten at tricking them into coming with me. You see the surprise in their eyes when you grab them, and you know I did a good job. I hate it. I hate watching you take their bodies against their will, and force them to suck your gorgeous cock. Then you tie us together, and you fuck her while my sickly body just gets jerked around from the pumping motion. I feel every thrust, but not the way I want to feel it.

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These ungrateful bitches get your cock in their pussies and all they do is cry and beg for you to stop. They are so lucky and they don’t know it. I am just a ragdoll tied to their back to watch. Just a piece of shit. No good for you anymore. I would do anything to be them in those moments. To feel your lust and your cock and have your attention.

The only joy I get is when you are finally finished with them. You fuck them until they stop begging, until they give in to you. They trust you and believe they are going to be okay. Thats when I get untied. Thats when I trick them one last time and tell them that they, like me, will be okay. I hug them as they tremble in fear and relief and I feel their hearts pounding. You come up behind them, finally look at ME, and shoot a bullet through their pretty head.

I have a mess to clean up, but at least the barbie is gone. I watch you fuck the hole in her skull, and know that you will need another very soon. Your taste for the pretty ones has become insatiable.

Cut in Half

I blink awake and I can’t figure out where I am. I am tied to a tree and I hurt all over. Only my ars are tied, but I can’t seem to move my legs? In fact, I can’t even feel them. Nothing makes sense. Its daylight, and I am covered in blood. Then I see it – I am sliced directly across my stomach – split in half, top and bottom. There is too much blood to see how deep the wound is, but I know its the reason I can’t feel my legs.

Its so surreal to look down and see me standing on my legs and feet, but have no sensation at all. Its like floating. Most of the blood has dried – so I must have been here awhile. And I must have survived this? How is that possible? My legs are covered in blood from the wound on my stomach, but otherwise I don’t see any other cuts.

Then you appear. You seem happy to see me awake. You come over and kiss me, and as you pull away I see blood on your face. It must have come from mine – my face must be bleeding but I cannot know for sure how or why. You lick my blood off your lips like its candy, and begin to take off your jeans. Your cock is hard and you slide it up between my legs. I watch in horror as you fuck my numb pussy. You have taken away my ability to feel pleasure!

You fuck me even harder and tell me that I will get fucked every day for the rest of my life, and I will never get to feel it. You rub my clit with your thumb while you fuck me. I can SEE you doing it and I want to FEEL it so fucking bad and I can’t. You are a fucking monster! You have taken away the only thing I had left – the sick perverted pleasure I got when my wet pussy would throb from your tortures.

Snuffing out a Bimbo

There’s this new guy in my building and he looks super yummy. I have run into him a time or two at the mail boxes or in the convenience store across the road. He seems to be a bit on the nocturnal side also. Well one night I was unloading some bags out of my car and noticed him with what looked like a real lame blonde bimbo. Oh well, I thought to myself, he’s obviously lamer than I hoped.

Later that night I was getting on my bike to head out to the bar when I saw him again, alone this time. He actually approached me and commented on my ride. Thanking him and after a brief intro I revved up to go when he put his hand on my arm, and asked if I was in a hurry to be somewhere. Giving him a questioning look as I idled the engine he asked if I would be interested in coming up to his place he had a proposition for me. Now I was a little intrigued and a little on the what the fuck side.

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Shutting off the engine and dismounting my bike I grabbed my bag and pulled my gun out of the storage spot and slipped it in my jacket. He didn’t seem to worried or freaked that I was toting a firearm. I tossed back at him how I never go anywhere without it unless it’s locked in my gun safe, and that I’m licensed. He still just appeared indifferent like it was a normal thing, he’s getting a few points, almost flushing that he appears to like blonde bimbos.

Up at his place he opened the door and I was surprised by how immaculately clean and was nicely decorated on a darker side. Lots of red, black and deep purples with sculls and knives. “So, what’s this big proposition Greg?” He leads me to a back bedroom and opens the door. There’s the bimbo, tied up, gagged and passed out. He watched me for an expression. Glancing at him I just stated “well that’s a relief”, and “so… you still haven’t clued me in on this big proposition”. As he still kind of looked at questioningly, “well when I saw you with this bimbo it was a little of a disappointment is all”.   

   I looked around the room and noticed it was sound proofed which made me smile a little more. “So, where’s your bass?” he started saying something then “wait, how’d you know…?” The sound proofing, professional acoustic sound proofing that assists in recording acoustics on top of sound proofing..” then “never mind all that  what’s the big deal”?  So, his response was “I need an accomplice”, and “ok, I have a confession, I have seen you around and even followed you one night, and well… I have seen what I needed to confirm that you would be the perfect partner for this..” He continued on as I leaned against the door frame, “I have this fantasy of having a brutal fucking female accomplice to assist in fucking up some annoying bimbo, maybe even snuffing her out”. He continued that he then wanted to brutally fuck her as she nears her death and as a finally we snuff her out putting a plastic bag over head while you penetrate her from behind with a strap on and I fuck you from behind vaginally and cum inside you as her last breath leaves her body life enters yours”. 

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He continued “as I further think about it that gun of yours would be a hot addition fucking her with it while she’s alive and lucid, and then forcing her to suck it clean threatening with finger on trigger, and I also think taking that hunting knife of yours to her neck while she’s on her back and I fuck her asking if it’s what she wanted, to be fucked by me..” As I consider and respond I mention that I would find more pleasure in it if I could draw the blade across her flesh bleeding her pathetic body…” We both look to her and smile, “Dusty meet Stephanie…” she was coming to and her eyes got so big.

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Torture Phone Sex with Cassandra: Arachnophobia

torture phone sex bondage punishmentI have new master. He is Australian; fancies himself a Crocodile Dundee type. Very rugged, very manly, very outdoorsy.  I thought he was just in spanking. I love being whipped and abused, especially my tits. But my new Master is a twisted fuck. After an hour of whipping me all over my body with a paddle, he dragged my red swollen body to a bedroom in the basement. He tied me to the bed spread eagle. I thought he was going to force himself on me or fuck me with a dildo. He just looked at me and said, “I hope you are afraid of spiders.” Then he closed the door and left. I was laying there on the bed not knowing what was going to happen when I started seeing things crawl across the ceiling. Before long the ceiling was infested with spiders: big hairy creepy ass spiders. It was like I was in a bad SyFy Channel movie.

I struggled to get myself free but he had me tied well to that bed. I started to hyperventilate. I would not say I have arachnophobia, but thousands of spiders above me makes it reasonable to panic. They were so many of them they started to fall on my body. Spiders began to swarm my breasts. The feeling of all those legs on me freaked me out. I was scared. I was panicky. They started biting me. I could feel the stings, the pain. It was worse than being paddled. I had no idea what kind of spiders were covering my body. I wanted to scream bloody murder but feared a spider would get in my mouth. I tried to escape in my head, but no such luck. I could not escape my fear. I had this vision that they would encase my body in a web. I was really starting to panic.

torture phone sex blonde big titsI started to cry. Deep sobbing kind of crying. My body was shaking. Master came in wearing some sort of body suit to keep the spiders off him. I begged him to let me go. Said I would do anything he wanted; that I would be the best submissive pet he ever had if he just let me go. I could hear him say, “Be careful what you ask for Cassandra, you might just get it.” But I was serious. This was torture. I would do anything to get these fucking spiders off my body. He let me go. He said it was a form of breaking me. In his world, spiders, snakes and rats are often all a stubborn bitch needs to be compliant. Well, it worked. I will fucking do anything he wants now. Anything is better than being helpless with a hoard of spiders covering your body.

Well, at least I hoped…..