Category: Torture sex

Men with Rape Phone Sex Fantasies for Me Never Live

rape phone sex fantasiesMen who harbor rape phone sex fantasies for me never live. And if they do live, they live without their balls and sometimes even without their dicks. I think I spell it out very clearly in my blogs that I’m not some sex doll for you to use. I’m a dominant fucking bitch. And a sadistic one at that.

I’ve killed men for less than trying to force fuck me. Perhaps, you could say I possess Spider-Man senses. I always know when some pathetic little bitch boy tries to put something in my drink. Men never realize this, but they make a special kind of nail polish for women. And that nail polish changes colors when it encounters roofie drugs.

Of course, a woman invented that to keep other women safe. And in a way I’m a vigilante for women who I don’t even like. I’m not a clique kind of girl. So, I don’t really have a girl squad or anything. Perhaps you could say I’m equally mean to everyone. Something changed in the past year or so. Men feel more emblazoned to take what they want even when it’s not theirs to take.

Men Who Fantasize About Violating Me Never Live

Perhaps I just felt like killer phone sex. It didn’t take much this weekend for me to decide to kill a man. When I get in my murderous mood, I do my best to uphold a certain code. However, I am a less principled Dexter. I think even Dexter would agree Marcus deserved to die. Not only did I find Marcus on the brat offender list, but his rap sheet also appears to be at least a mile long. And it includes everything from armed robbery to drugs to sexual assault. Marcus might not have wronged me, but he rounded enough people to put him on my radar.

So, I hunted him this weekend and observed him in action. I observed a predator preying on drunk coeds. Now I’m not a fan of coeds in general. For the most part, they behave like rabid dogs. They would kill each other over a cute frat boy. Coeds seem self-absorbed, mean and shallow.

Marcus needed to go. Not necessarily because I wanted to champion drunk coeds. It’s just the principle of the matter. Taking advantage of drunk women, seems like a pussy move. Some men can only prey on women if they drug them because they can’t handle fighting a woman. My guess most women would neuter Marcus or at least punch him and kick him in the balls repeatedly trying to escape.

For Me, Its More About the Principle of the Matter. A Drugged Woman Does Not Equal a Fair Fight

I saw him putting something into a coed’s drink as I stood at the bar near them. So, I broke a glass to create a distraction and switched their drinks. Marcus became a sloppy drunk quickly, and I escorted him into my car and took him to my cabin in the woods where I mutilated his body. And tortured him for hours, eventually murdering him. But he deserved it. Actions have consequences.

When he woke up, he discovered himself naked, tied to a dining room table spread eagle with a castration band around his balls. And I told him what a dumb ass predator he was because he drank his own roofied drink. Even though I eventually killed this loser, he deserved castration phone sex first I wanted him to think he would survive, just without his balls. Perhaps you could say, I revoked his man card. He didn’t deserve his balls.

I am a Vigilante for Women I Despise

For hours, I carved up his flesh with various sharp instruments. I even carved off some of his flesh which I fed to my dogs and the wildlife nearby. Told you I’m a sick bitch. I enjoy torture. It feels empowering to torture a man like Marcus, who preys on the vulnerable. Honestly, my moral code does not appear close to Dexters. I didn’t really torture him and murder him to protect the future generation of women I could care less about. I hate vapid coeds. But I just felt like killing and torturing a man. And Marcus seemed the perfect mark.

Eventually, this predator died from the wounds I inflicted. And he died before I felt completely satisfied. Oops I did it again. Went a little too rough on him and killed him sooner than I wanted. But the wildlife behind my kill shack seemed excited for the food offering I gave them. Nature will always be the best accomplices when you need to get rid of a body. So, just remember, you can be my accomplice or my victim but if you try to make me your victim, you will be bear shit the next day.

Snuff Sex is The Best Mind Melting Insidious Odd Pleasures

Snuff sex is the ultimate high for me; it’s like a game of cat and mouse. First, I spot you slinking through the shadows, a pathetic creature driven by your filthy urges. No doubt, you think you’re hunting prey tonight, but you’re the one being tracked.
So, I follow your scent—cheap cologne and desperation—as you creep along the alley walls. Ultimately, your fingers twitch, hungry for something you’ll never touch. Just one second, I let you believe you’re in control for a few more strides.
Then, I step out from behind the dumpster. Therefore, you freeze, eyes wide, mouth slack. Obviously, you recognize the danger in my smile, the death glint behind my dark irises.
Of course, I don’t speak. After all, words are wasted on vermin. Instead, I tilt my head, inviting you to follow. And you do—because losers always follow the promise of forbidden pleasure.
Behind the abandoned warehouse, I stop. Then, I turn to see you’re panting, hands shaking, cock already half-hard in your pants. In fact, I see the hunger in your eyes, the expectation of some quick fuck in the dark.
Poor thing. You have no idea what I have planned.
First, I wrap my gloved hand around your throat. As I squeeze lightly, enough to make your breath catch. Oh, you think it’s foreplay, I feel your pulse hammering against my palm.
Then I whisper the directive: You’re going to die tonight, a slow death, and you’re going to thank me for it.
Next, I drag my knife across your belt, slicing it clean. Therefore, your pants drop to your ankles. Ultimately, you’re exposed, shivering, and confused. So, I press the blade flat against your thigh, then slide it upward, drawing a thin line of blood.

Snuff Sex Where The Night is My Playground

Now, you hiss, but I clamp my other hand over your mouth.
Next, I force you to your knees. While your legs are tangled in your fallen pants, useless. So, I kick them away, leaving you naked from the waist down. As the cold concrete bites into your kneecaps. While circling around my prey, I can’t help but laugh.
After that, I pull a length of rope from my pocket. Loop it around your wrists, cinch them tight behind your back. Of course, you’re struggling, but I’ve already got you. Finally, I yank the rope upward, forcing your shoulders back, arching your spine.
Then I shove you forward onto your face. Your cheek scrapes against the gravel.
Finally, I plant my boot on the back of your neck. Then press down until your skull grinds into the pavement and the stiletto heel penetrates your inner ear.
Meanwhile, your muffled screams vibrate through the soles of my boots as the blood swarms from your head. Now, I lean close, lips brushing your ruptured ear. Ultimately, I deliver the final directive: I’m going to peel the flesh from your bones with my scalpel right here and now.
In fact, you’ll feel every nerve ending burn. Then, when you’re nothing but a raw, weeping mess, I’ll leave you here for the rats.
No sex. Just the hunt, the catch, and the slow, beautiful destruction.
Snuff sex

Accomplice Phone Sex Fantasies Feel Cathartic to Me

accomplice phone sexAccomplice phone sex role plays I enjoy. And I think it appears obvious why. It’s better to be the accomplice than the victim any day. Accomplices live. The accomplice usually walks away from any situation unscathed and with money. And I’ve suffered decades of abuse, so it feels good to be the accomplice instead of a victim.

Last night I helped a woman get revenge on a serial predator. Her own uncle. This girl appeared to be college age. Half my age at least. Cute too. But I could tell in those eyes she’s been through some shit. Those dead eyes told a tragic story. And for decades, my eyes appeared the same too. So, I sat down and asked her to tell me all the details on her predatory uncle. It’s research for the job.

He started exploring his rape phone sex fantasies for his niece when she was super young. When she got older, he threatened to kill her baby sister if she said a word. Yeah, I told her I would do the job with pleasure. I wanted to help her kill her uncle because it would feel cathartic to me. Her uncle sounded just like my father. And I’ve yet to exact my revenge on him, but I’ve been practicing.

Feels Cathartic to Assist Younger Girls in the Killing of Predators

We set her uncle up. He thought he would be meeting his niece. Get this. He tried to blackmail her into bringing her baby sister. So, this loser thought he’d be meeting both of his nieces. We did this while my client’s parents went on a cruise. My client agreed to watch her sister for two weeks. So that gave us her house to kill her uncle. I drugged her baby sister so she would sleep through the night, and the screams would not wake her up. And he screamed like a bitch when I torture his junk.

That’s just what we did. We tortured her predatory uncle’s junk until it looked like raw hamburger meat. And we carved that worthless predatory dick and balls up better than a Christmas turkey. At one point I shoved my panties in his mouth because he screamed like such a bitch. Men can never handle the torture sex of their genitals. But her uncle didn’t deserve to keep them, and he didn’t deserve to live for his crimes. If we kept him breathing, he would assault her baby sister. Not on my watch.

I Enjoy Helping Women Get Revenge

We eventually killed him. I stabbed him right through the heart. My client looked him in his eyes as he took his last breath. And she said the look on his face, the shock that his own victim helped kill and torture him seemed worth it. Moments like that seem priceless.

And men never think women can become sadistic killers, thrill seekers, or revenge champions. Women plan out their murders. We are not impulsive killers. So, I think that makes us far more dangerous. Men never see us coming. I gave this young girl a college discount. Feels good to help other women. She can sleep at night and never worry about her baby sister. She’s safe now. They will never find his body. I buried him in a deep grave in the middle of the woods. I’ll do it all again because like I said, it felt cathartic to me. As I killed him, I just thought about dear old dad.

Gangbang Rape Porn Stars Find Trouble Anywhere

gangbang rape pornSometimes, I do not mind being a gangbang rape porn star. I’m a kinky slut and a submissive whore. So, I never mind more than one cock in a hole at a time or serving as a gangbang whore. However, last night, I did not enjoy it. Perhaps because my ass and pussy still hurt from my son ‘s recent visit. Or maybe these animals just went too rough on me. Likely a mixture of both.

I did not go out to score drugs or get into any trouble. But trouble always finds me. I went to this dive bar to meet a friend of mine, but she stood me up. She texted me an apology, and that she contracted the flu. So, I sat at the bar drinking boxed wine when a few men approached me to play pool. I’m a pool shark. Most men never guess that I’m good at the game. But I’m quite a pool player. And I thought for once I could just hang out with men instead of being their ass rape porn doll. Foolish of me.

However, they did not like being shown up by a girl. I took all their money and apparently their dignity too when I beat them all. They saw me as a mark, I guess. Figured I would suck at the game, and they could feel like big men taking all my money.

Trouble Follows This Red-Headed MILF Where Ever I Go

I got a little too cocky and one of them slapped me hard. That’s when I knew trouble would ensue. I just never know when to shut my fucking mouth. But they shut it for me. One guy grabbed a pool ball and tried to shove it in my mouth. And he ended up cracking two of my teeth.

Next thing I knew they bent me over the pool table, ripped my clothes off and savagely started fucking me. This was not for pay. And this was not for cocaine. A bunch of sore loser men couldn’t handle a girl beating them. So, they violated me to put me in my place. They grabbed my hair and choked me. A few of them dick slapped me and spit on me. And they all pissed on me. Plus, they all took turns fucking my ass. They even made fun of my prolapse.

I blame this one on my girlfriend who stood me up. The only reason I went to that bar was to meet her. But like I said, trouble follows me. Men enjoy exploring their rape phone sex fantasies with this redheaded MILF. No matter where I go, trouble follows.

Violent Phone Sex For Your Hard Cock

Every night when I get home from work, this random car is sitting near my driveway. I can’t see who’s in it since the windows are tinted, but I find that it’s extremely weird to just park on the curb with the headlights on. I thought about calling the cops to report the strange car, but I decided to just ignore it since it had only been a few days.

Saturday, I decided to hang out with my girlfriends at the bar. It had been a while since we all hung out. When I got home and pulled inside my driveway, all of a sudden I feel someone grab me from behind and cover my mouth with a thick cloth. I passed out for a few hours because the next thing I know, I’m waking up in this random basement. There’s all kind of dirty tools everywhere. I’m tied down on the table and I can’t move a muscle. He put something in my mouth because it’s stretched open with an object in between my teeth. A strange man with long stringy hair walks up to the table with a huge smile and a knife in his hand and say’s “I finally got your little pretty ass. You’re going to choke on this big fucking cock before I slit your throat!” I tried so hard to scream but I couldn’t he removes the gag from my mouth, and as soon as I try to scream, he chokes me, making it extremely hard for me to breath. He then shoves his dick in my mouth while his hand is still wrapped around my throat. I feel the tip of his head so deep, I couldn’t breathe. “Yeaaah, good girl.” He say’s as hee hold’s his head back. He removes his dick, and puts the gag back in my mouth. He say’s now, if you keep being a good girl, I may not kill you.” He rips my panties off and shoves his dick balls deep in my pussy. He yells out “yeesss! Take it you fucking pretty bitch!” He then takes the knife and stabs me in the stomach. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. I can’t do anything. I’m just bleeding out. He runs his fingers on my blood and rubs it on his face.

“You’re my pretty little bitch now.” He said as he jacks his dick and cums all over my face. Violent Phone Sex

Knife Play Phone Sex is My Favorite

knife play phone sexI do not feel like it’s a secret that I love knife play phone sex. Guns are for losers. When people kill with their bare hands or a knife that seems like a bigger challenge and more satisfying. A gun takes luck, but a knife takes skill.

My love for knives goes back to my schoolgirl days. My grandfather, who served as my mentor, owned over 1000 knives. Perhaps you could call him a collector. He liked all sorts of macabre shit. I inherited all his medieval torture devices, as well as his knife collection and some death row chairs that I repurposed into castration chairs.

My grandpa gave me my first knife. He thought I might need it for protection. But I used it impulsively against this bully bitch who harassed me on my way home from school one day. And I guess I hit just the right place for her to bleed out almost instantly. Now I know where the arteries are located. I know how to prolong death. Knives give you a sort of control that a gun doesn’t. I can cut all over a body, avoiding all the major arteries. And when I get bored, I slice an artery and they die.

Each of My Knives Tells Me a Story and Reminds Me of My Kills

My grandpa covered up my first kill. And then he taught me how to become a great killer phone sex bitch. Essentially, he taught me how to get away with murder and when he died, I inherited over 1000 knives from him. But I already amassed quite the collection of my own. And every knife I own tells a story. Sometimes I go down into my dungeon, and I masturbate with one of the knives.

Now don’t misunderstand me. I’m not shoving that knife anywhere. I’m simply holding it and licking it so I can remember the kills associated with that knife. A lot of serial killers take trophies. However, my knives serve as my trophies. Once my tongue goes across that steel blade, I remember vividly each kill I committed with that knife. I relive it and it gives me sexual pleasure. What can I say? I’m a sick bitch.

But I love my knives. They serve as my souvenirs. All I need to do is hold a knife and the memories of all the kills tied to that knife come flooding back. Thanks to my grandpa. I’m a knife, yielding, sadistic phone sex bitch. And I can either use one of my knives on you to create another hot memory or I can let you use my knife on an unsuspecting young girl that we killing mutilate together. Your choice.

Not All Snuff Movies are Simulated and I Know

snuff moviesMost snuff movies are simulated. Not real snuff. Real shit usually never gets uploaded to the Internet. It’s filmed on 8 mm reels and for private use. Obviously, the sort of snuff flicks. I did early on in my adult career were the simulated kind, or I would not be standing. However, in my career as an adult performer and a professional slave, I watched the real ones filmed more times and I can remember.

It used to make me sick to my stomach. And likely it still would, but I developed a coping mechanism. This world is truly survival of the fittest. And you can only survive if you’re scrappy and street smart. Luckily, I have both in droves. But the other night I helped a man make a real snuff porn.

And I can’t get it out of my head. Likely the most brutal thing I ever witnessed. And clearly, I’m complacent in this murder, even though I never laid a hand on the girl while she still could breathe. Perhaps you could say I sold my conscious to the devil for money. I didn’t do this gig because I wanted to. I did it because he paid me well.

This man seemed even more brutal than my former master or any of the men who hired me as their accomplice in the past. Although I did help find the girl, I did not know about his plans for her. I just found him a very young blonde little girl next-door type. When I brought her to the dungeon, he already set up the camera equipment and again I thought he would just explore his rape fantasies. He never mentioned killing her.

Some Snuff Flicks and Accomplice Gigs Tear Me Apart Inside

After he fucked her, he dismembered her. The cruelest torture I’ve ever witnessed. He started off slowly using gardening shears to clip her nipples off. He did the same to her clit. And he fucked her some more while her pussy bled. Then he used the same shears to clip off every finger and every toe. And I thought I might puke. Although I did go from victim to accomplice once I gained my freedom, I don’t always enjoy my assignments. This assignment tore me apart. But it literally tore the girl I kidnapped for him apart.

This man scared me. He masturbated as he continued to torture this girl and dismember her body. By the time he started cutting off her arms and legs, I think she either died or passed out from the loss of blood and pain. This turned out to be the worst torture sex I ever witnessed. And I needed to clean it all up for him. My hands are dirty and complicit in this one. So, I made sure to get rid of the body and all the evidence of a crime.

I just keep telling myself better her than me, right. Survival of the fittest mentality. But if I need to pay my bills, I guess I need to continue being an accomplice for hire.

Gangbang rape porn sluts need to be lured into it

Gangbang rape porn Gangbang rape porn girls are so easy to get. I’m the devil on your shoulder, guiding you to the most depraved adventures.

I have an expertise that lies in seducing the most desperate, slutty bitches. Even the younger ones.

The younger the better!

I can entice them into a world of unrelenting torture and degradation. How do I do it? Well, I have access to places where there is an abundance of bald cunts desperate for a cock pounding!

I have a sixth sense for sniffing out these easy whores. Their faces have the desperate cries for attention like moths to a flame. So I lure them in and make them feel special.

By the time they feel comfortable, your cock will be fucking their throat. They are totally worthless. No one cares about them, so in this world, you can do whatever you please. This is all about your Snuff fantasies. Does that mean you will destroy that pussy totally or keep her as a breeding pig?

I have a barn to keep her in. She’ll enjoy her stall and be very happy anytime you come around. See, she will be trained to be addicted to your cock and worship it just like how I taught her.

Being My Son’s Ass Rape Porn Star is Dangerous Work

ass rape pornAnytime my oldest boy texts me, I know I’m going to be his ass rape porn star. He live streams our abuse sessions. But I don’t mind helping him out because he helps me out by giving me the best cocaine. My boy can get that pink cocaine. And a little goes a long way. He always jokes that I am on the cocaine diet. I’m just an old skinny Barbie doll on a Popsicle stick. Two big tits and a very skinny body.

I always wear a very short skirt so that my meat curtains hang down. Because of all these live streams, my pussy lips have been overused and abused for decades. This time I remembered to take my teeth out, but it didn’t do much good. He still enjoyed punching me in the face. He forced my head into the bowl of cocaine he brought while calling me a dumb old fucktard.

While my face snorted premium pink cocaine, he made me push out my prolapse, which doubles as his cock sleeve. To him I’m nothing more than a cash cow, a cum dumpster, and a cock sleeve. He shoved his fist up my ass to pull out my shit pipe. I kept snorting the cocaine because I knew I needed to be extremely high not to feel his level of pain. He does like to beat his mommy beautiful.

He attached a zip tie to my ass to keep it on the outside, and then he started to fuck me. Pounded my prolapse so hard that I collapsed on the ground. Since my tits look like balloons, they kept me from completely being flush with the floor.

My Son Enjoys Beating Mommy Beautiful

He started to light me up better than the Fourth of July as he fucked my prolapsed ass. He loves to turn me black and blue, and red and purple too. Without that cocaine, no way could I survive any of this. If I had no cocaine, I’d be begging him to make a snuff porn with me and put me out of my misery.

And I needed to snort a lot of cocaine to not feel what my son did to me. I made the mistake of telling him my face felt numb, so he punched me in the face so hard that I fell backwards into the coffee table. As I struggled to get back up, my son came over, picked me up by the prolapse and threw me across the room. And I landed with a thud. My son joked that he made his mommy fly. At this point, I could taste blood.

He walked over to where I landed calmly and started kicking me in the face. And he made me ram my face into his fist. He punched my fun bags and then he wanted to fuck my ass pipe some more. I could feel some of the pain. So, at least he let me bury my face in the bowl of cocaine again. And once I felt sufficiently numb, he started boxing my tits like Mike Tyson in the gym.

In Exchange for Being My Son’s Punching Bag I Get Pink Cocaine

My boy loves to punch my fun bags. Every time one of my tits pops, he takes me to a surgeon who fixes my broken boob and makes me even bustier. Before long, I might not be able to even stand up if my tits get any bigger. At one point he forced himself on my face. He sat down on my face, forcing me to lick his shit hole. And then he started pissing down my throat. But I drank it all. With my boy in these moods he gets, I’m damned if I do damned if I don’t. I’m getting beaten no matter what.

So, he decided to tie my tits up like torpedoes, making it easier to punch them. He slipped on some brass knuckles, and I won’t lie, I felt a pit in my stomach. He started punching my tits and my lips while wearing brass knuckles. Before long, my lips looked like I just got Botox. They looked like blow fish lips. I saw the plastic bag with cocaine in it, and I knew what came after punching the shit out of my boobs. He felt in the mood for suffocation phone sex. I watched him put some coke in the bag and then put it over my head.

He continued to punch the sides of my face, the back of my head, and my lower back while I struggled to breathe in a plastic bag filled with cocaine. So, I did what I do best, I snorted all the coke in that bag. Good thing too, because his entire arm went up my cunt until he looked elbow deep in my pussy.

For My Son and His Audience, I am a 4-Hole Whore

As I started to run out of air, I pleaded with my boy to let me go. But he wanted to fuck my fourth hole first. He stretched my urethra out with his fat cock. He eventually took the bag off my head, and I gasped as I breathed in fresh air.

A few more punches to the face followed. By the time our live stream concluded, I couldn’t even see out my eyes. He punched them so hard they swelled shut. He decided for one last hurrah he would piss down my throat. By the time he concluded the live stream, I looked like a car crash victim. Managed to fuck all four of my holes while people watched from the comfort of their homes. Clearly they enjoy the show because they tipped nonstop.

Eventually, he shoved his cock snot down my throat. I couldn’t see his cock at that point, but I could feel it in my mouth. And I could feel how aroused he felt after beating mommy to a pulp. He came down my throat, and my battered face couldn’t see a thing. But how would I get home if I couldn’t see yet. My son really did a number on his mommy this time.

Castration Phone Sex Teaches Women to Exact Revenge on Their Predators

castration phone sexWith castration phone sex, I sometimes don’t know where to begin. So many men do not deserve their dicks. But I’m just one woman. So, I had an idea. A rather brilliant idea. If there could be underground academies teaching men how to force fuck women, why can’t there be an underground academy teaching girls how to castrate predators?

Last month, that’s what I did. I started an online group on the Dark Web for victims of sexual predators. However, my group seems less focused on healing from their trauma and more focused on getting revenge. And I believe the punishment should fit the crime. When that crime involves exploring rape phone sex fantasies, I believe the fitting punishment is castration. If you can’t use it properly, you lose your privileges to use it at all.

My little underground therapy group took off instantly. And last night I met a girl for some practical experience. She lives 200 miles away, but that’s an easy drive for me. So, with my knife collection, I visited Teresa and we designed a plan to get back at her predatory uncle.

Fuck law enforcement. They almost never believe the woman, and it becomes a he said she said thing that can’t be proven. Why should girls put themselves through that. They don’t need to put themselves through all the questions and judgments. Not when women can take back what men stole from them.

If Men Can Have Online Academies Teaching Them How to Assault Women, I Can Have an Academy Teaching Women How to Exact Revenge

So, I helped Teresa castrate her uncle who violated her repeatedly for over a decade. Until one day, she just aged out for him. And I needed to seize the moment because Teresa seemed ready for revenge. She lured her uncle to us, and I strapped him down into a chair. Stripped him naked first. What a cocky son of a bitch. He should feel lucky I didn’t kill him. He started talking smack about both of us. And he even said women just need a good dick and someone to remove the sticks up their asses.

Even when my knife pressed against his balls, he didn’t believe two women could mutilate his junk. So, he got a rude wake up call. I wanted to take his nuts too. But in that situation, I served as the teacher. Teresa deserved to remove his balls. She remained calm and collected while telling him about his crimes against her. And when she took his balls, he bled so much. No way he’s getting his blood out of that carpet. Oops, I did it again.

I could see the look in Teresa’s eyes when she sliced his ball sack off. She felt good again. Happy. Removing his balls felt cathartic to her. Now, maybe she can move on from her trauma and really start to heal.

Sure, I know I’m breaking the law with my castration academy. But if men would just keep it in their pants or realize no means no, I wouldn’t need to teach girls extreme cock and ball torture sex. But since the law doesn’t seem to want to help these girls, I will. Although I know we can’t castrate all the predators in the world, we can neuter as many as we can.