Category: Torture phone sex

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.

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

 

 

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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Bringing The Pain Just For You

Of course I love to fuck, that’s obvious. I use my body to manipulate and control and it’s never failed me yet. But, the main thing that gets my pussy dripping wet and aching is having a brainless, worthless little piece of flesh to use and torture to my heart’s content.

And even then, it’s not just that, it’s the entire deviant, twisted process is what really gets my sweet juices flowing. Together we spy just the right innocent little one to stalk, capture, fuck and torture as long and as we can until we finally use them up to our satisfaction and dispose of the lifeless creature.

And the best part of it is when we’ve finally have used up the pathetic tiny whore, we can simply rid ourselves of it and when we’re ready and the time is right we can find a brand new fresh sweet angel to defile. We’ll take them to depths of such horror and pain it makes the intensity of it almost like a drug and we lose ourselves in the dark erotic sensations.

The part that is so ironic is that the fucking stupid cunt actually looks to me for mercy and compassion just because I sound so sweet and can get those mindless little fucks to trust me wholeheartedly. Oh, but the look in their eyes when I tell them in my sweetest little voice that we’re going to do the most unspeakable, painful and wicked things to their unused bodies is priceless.

Mommy and Daddy don’t give a shit about them, I say and were so relieved when you and I took the tiny twat off their hands. You see, to me fucking with their minds is just as satisfying as fucking with their little cunts. Sometimes we can get so carried away, we just fuck each other right on top of the sniveling and traumatized doomed little thing.

I’m always so impressed with all the effort and imagination we use when thinking of ways to disfigure and carve up the tasty treat. When it’s all said and done, I love nothing more than to lie back and savor every deliciously gory and bloody detail with you and fantasize about just how far we can take it the next time…

I Want You to Force Me to Watch

Snuff is an addiction. You are my fucking drug. I need you to take my life blood. I need you to crave me, and be hungry to taste my soft flesh.  I want to feel the sharpness of your blade cutting into my tits.  Cut out bite size pieces and we can eat them together. Make me devour myself for you. Feed me my own nipples and feed me my own clit.  Slice them off and make me chew them up and swallow them.

Take me to the edge of death by draining my blood out of my pussy. Take your spiked leather glove and fist my pussy. Punch the spikes up through my vagina and into my uterus, slicing and destroying my uterus. Make me the worthless piece of shit I am.  Keep thrusting your fist with the spikes deeper and deeper, until I can feel the spikes stinging the back of my throat. Your whole arm is inside me, blood everywhere, and your spiked fist sits in my chest ready to punch itself free.

Slice my eyelids off so that I have to watch. Then curl your arm so that your spiked fist comes straight out between my tits and tears me open in a shower of blood and screams. Then as my staring eyes start to fade, tell me I am your dirty little fucking whore. I need that to be the last thing I hear.

Belly of the Beast

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It was time for the annual meeting of freaks; and, when I say “freaks,” I mean people who jack-off to the idea of being devoured. My personal problem with it is that it’s all a theatrical production; no one is really eaten. Why can’t they just commit to being eaten by a cannibal. Anyway, this year’s theme was “In the belly of the snake.” A gigantic snake was created and the attendees were going to be able to be swallowed and digested by the monster; and, better yet, the attendees were supposed to dress as biblical figures. Now, this is the type of irony that I could appreciate.

I waited until mid-morning and set out to the studio; the crowd wouldn’t form yet until afternoon. But, there were a few stragglers; and all I had to do was wait for the perfect opportunity. They presented themselves fairly quickly: they were a young college couple. But, they were dressed as Jesus and Mary Magdalene; and, well, that was just too sweet to resist.

The admissions clerk took their money and then sat squarely behind a garbage can to finish smoking his rock. I snuck in easily; I had placed a couple of cameras in the large constructed snake and I could track their every move. Laughter and awe gave away to eroticism as they began to make their way down the intestines. By the time I reached them, they were mutually masturbating underneath their clothes and yelling, “Eat me. Yeah, monster, eat our deliciously sinful bodies.” I almost laughed.

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When I approached, I slid a blade quickly into the male and I told the female that he had, indeed, been eaten. Thinking that I was part of the production, she cried out to be eaten, too. She remained docile but excited as I tied her with rope and gave her some bullshit about being constricted in the snake’s belly. Then, she noticed that her companion hadn’t moved and there was a little bit of blood leaking beneath him. She began to scream; and I was a little glad that she was finally recognizing her dire situation.

I slit her belly open, carving out a large portion of flesh from her breasts to her torso. She bled out fairly quickly, but not before she saw me hack into her friend and place his decapitated head inside of her. And, as a last touch, I chopped off his cock and put it in her mouth. I staged them for the next visitors and pitied myself that I hadn’t brought some kind of manger and doll with me; but, I was proud of my work and took a quick photo.

Swallow Me Alive

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When I was a younger girl, I would sit on my daddy’s lap and watch movies like Jaws and Anaconda. I belonged to my daddy. He owned me. Instead of reading me books like Goodnight Moon, we would watch torture porn and horror movies.  I would get aroused watching  Jaws  swallow men whole. When Anaconda came out, I would masturbate furiously to it. Something so arousing about the idea of being eaten alive, actually swallowed hole and forced to live inside someone or some thing’s body. My daddy told me I was the not the only one with vore fantasies. He had often jacked off to the thought of swallowing his baby girl alive. That image has been spank material for me for years. First, I want to be out in the wild, hunted like prey by a ravenous mutant snake. I’m scared and hiding, but its keen senses and stealth hunting tactics prove to be out of my skill league.  It finds me, and paralyzes me with its toxic saliva.  I can’t move, can’t scream. I’m totally helpless. It’s huge mouth opens up and  this mutant snake devours me inch by inch, swallowing me  whole while my daddy watches and masturbates like the sick fuck he is.  I’m sliding slowly into the belly of the beast. Unable to see or move, alone with my thoughts; forced to be inside his belly for years before he digests me or regurgitates my remains. The thought of languishing a slow death inside the belly of a beast soaks my pretty pink cunt.

I have a master who finds the thought of devouring me hot. He doesn’t want to eat me, just swallow me  in my entirety. We role play this often. He kneels behind me, with his mouth open wide and my ass goes in his mouth first until he can fold my body like lawn chair and swallow me whole. Of course, as he devours me, his cock is rock hard and he has to stroke it as he feels his belly expanding from having consumed another living human being.

I’m no vanilla girl. I have no desire to be your phone GFE. I want to be your sick, twisted taboo phone sex whore. What wicked, morbid fantasies do you have in mind for us? Would you like to devour me perhaps? accomplice phone sex taboo fetish

Stalking Blair

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She was at the local coffee shop on her way to the next-door bakery. She had luscious red curls and thick, juicy thighs. She was the perfect body type for one of my cannibal friends, but she was a little older than co-ed age; regardless, she provided the perfect opportunity to hone stalking skills. Her day patterns were easy and consistent.  But, her night patterns were changing. She cautiously made her way to an abandoned building; her car and two more were hidden in the brush of the dilapidated building. Any stalker’s footsteps would be barely audible because of the echoing of their voices and their own movements along the creaky floor.

Around the corner, her bare, porcelain rump was in the air. She was gagged and both men stood on opposite sides of her. They began ridiculing her for being so fat, so plump; and, they yelled obscenities at her for being a whore who was about to receive her just desserts.  She seemed to be begging for her release, but she wasn’t very convincing. The little whore was enjoying the scene, which was apparent as one of the guys mocked her sloppy wet cunt. One of the other men took off the gag and slapped her face, instructing her to beg for them to fuck all of her nasty holes. One pulled her head back by her hair and grunted, “It’s not like your fantasy, is it, pussycat?!” She began to cry but she was enjoying it all.

One man shoved the handle of a hammer inside her cunt and then proceeded to force his cock inside her asshole. The other man placed a contraption in her mouth that kept her teeth spread open and he pushed his cock inside her mouth. “Don’t bite me, or you’ll be sorry, bitch.” She nodded. After the men were through shooting their cum on her, they whipped her and kicked her. She struggled to get up after they left; she was bloodied, bruised, and saturated with cum.  This little cunt had some wicked fantasies that she was exploring; and, anyone who watched the scene would’ve wondered how far she would go to have those desires satiated.

Killer Phone Sex with Blair: The Legend of the Hook Man

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My best friend called me to tell me she had heard a news flash about an escaped mental patient from the nearby insane asylum. According to the news, he has a hook for one of his hands and is considered unstable and highly dangerous. He had been in Briarwood for 40 years for killing young couples being naughty in cars on lookout point. I told Sherri that was pure urban legend and she had just been punked by someone. I insisted I was fine and not scared. I was not going to let some silly practical joker prevent me from a hot date with my youngest son. I was driving out to our local lovers’ lane to meet him. My husband is home so we can’t fuck in my bed tonight; we were both so horny we decided to fuck in our town’s little lovers’ lane area under the moonlight.

I get there early and he is not there yet, which is odd. He is usually waiting for me naked. I try to text him, but I have no cell reception. Suddenly, I hear a loud thumping on the roof of my car. I’m thinking, my son is trying to scare me. I get out the car, and I’m horrified to see a man with a hook, sitting on the roof of my car with what appears to be a severed head. I scream and start to run, but he throws the head at me, knocking me down. Oh my god, the head belongs to my baby boy. I’m in shock, crying hysterically. I even vomit. I try to get up, when I feel this intense pain in my back and blood trickling down my spine. I’ve been impaled with the hook and this mad man is dragging me through the mud and grass like a dead deer. I can barely move the pain is unbearable. As he is dragging me, my flesh is getting ripped from my body; I’m starting to choke on my own blood; and I’m getting cut further by rocks and glass on the ground. I start praying I will die soon; and be with my lover, my son.

But, no; I am not as lucky as my son to be dead. This crazed hook man drags me into a little cabin hidden in the woods and ties me to a rack. Already bleeding and near death, he begins to taunt me with his nasty hook. He never says a word to me, but scrapes his hook on the wall creating a horrible sound. I actually peed on myself because I was that scared. He is impervious to my screams, my pleas, my tears. I can’t get him to release me, or tell me why? Suddenly, he leaves the room and for a moment and I think I reached him; he is gonna spare my life. No.  He comes right back with some torture device, flips me over this saw horse looking thing and starts anally torturing me. Then he starts cutting me with his hook. The pain was unbearable. I kept coming in and out of consciousness. Then, the coup d’état; he shoves the hook up my pussy, turning it as he shoved it in me deeper and deeper. He is scraping my insides, gutting me like a pig through my pussy and ass. I lay there like an animal just killed; bleeding on the floor, feeling my insides pool on the ground below me, gasping for my last breath, dying a slow and painful death.

I should have listened to my best friend. The Hook Man is real, so very very real….killer phone sex torture murder

Torture Phone Sex: Burn Cassandra Burn

torture phone sex submissive pain whoreI have been a pain slut for as long as I can remember. I started young as a cutter, and then graduated to more extreme measures as I grew older. But something I have never been able to handle is fire of any sorts. I have this new master who smokes cigars. Very high end Cuban stogies he gets from Canada. Well he left me alone for a little while this morning and I couldn’t help myself, I had to try one of his cigars. I mean a Cuban cigar is illegal in the US because of some stupid embargo. OMG, it was smooth with such a full bodied taste. I can see why they are coveted and smuggled into the country. Well I got lost puffing on that Havana and masturbating because it tasted so good. I look up and Master is in the door way livid. He lunged at me, grabbed my throat and threw me on the ground. He started kicking me and spitting on me and called me a worthless thieving whore. I tried to apologize; saying a Cuban cigar is something I was always curious about. That was not the right thing to say. He made me get back up on the bed and take the stogie and smoke it the other way. I had to put my lips and puff on the glowing embers. My lips, my tongue were burning; I could smell the flesh, feel the pain. As I was starting to cry, he made me deep throat that lit stogie like a cock. It burned the back of my throat. I could feel the fire in my mouth; I began choking on the blood and the flesh that was melting in my mouth, when Master ordered me to swallow it. I shook my head, tears in my eyes, blood running out my mouth, gagging on the smell of seared flesh, when he slapped me so hard, I swallowed the burning cigar. The pain was inconceivable. I could feel the burning sensation traveling down my esophagus. The smell of my burnt flesh was waffling through my nose. I thought I was going to vomit. My stomach was on fire. I could almost see a hellfire glow through my belly.

I thought he was done torturing me, but said the fun had just begun. I was a dirty stupid cunt who couldn’t keep her hands to herself and needed to be taught a lesson. I was laying there sick, and in so much pain, when he came at me with a big fat lit stogie and started burning the word thief across my breasts. I was being branded, slowly and painfully so I would never forget what happens to thieves. I knew better than to cry or beg for mercy. But it was hard to not scream as my flesh was melting off my body. He had more in store for me too. He tied my burning body up over the bed and double penetrated me with burning cigars. I have had a lot of things in my ass and cunt but never a lit stogie. My ass and pussy were branded for life. I could feel my insides melting and burning. My skin was scorched from head to toe. It was a sweet, acrid, lingers in-your-nose-forever charcoal smell. It’s a smell so strong that I could taste it. The smell and taste of my own charred flesh was the worse smell ever.

There was not an orifice or area of flesh my Master did not burn me with a stogie to teach me a lesson. My pretty alabaster skin is forever ruined. I am scarred for life and will forever carry the singe marks of shame for smoking my Master’s Cuban cigar. Yet somehow, through the horrible pain, I was aroused. Maybe, you would like to be my new Master? Find some painful, degrading way to arouse me? My pain, as always, is my Master’s pleasure.

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