So many people think I belong in snuff movies. Although, I’ve made a few, I honestly try to avoid the snuff world, believe it or not. I survived nine days snowed in with my family. Surprisingly enough, I successfully traded enough cocaine to last for the blizzard.
But yesterday the weather felt great. For once, it did not feel like single-digit weather. And I decided to go out and see if I could score some more coke so I could watch the Super Bowl with my boys and their friends. Plus, I think I experienced some cabin fever. I just needed to get out of the house.
I went to this little dive bar first because I thought I could party with some old blue-collar workers. They love to share their coke. Although I’m talking about a bump here and a bump there. It’s not like I would walk away with a huge bag of coke. This bar appeared safe. But then I saw him. And I almost pissed myself.
I saw a snuff porn director who I’ve worked for in the past. The last time I did, he sent me to the ER, with a broken arm and a fractured ankle. Not to mention all the bruises. But when I went to the ER, they all assumed my husband beat me up. I never confirmed that, but I never denied it either. Once he saw me, I could not escape. I think I pissed him off with polite pleasantries. He pushed me into a single stall bathroom. And I tried not to panic.
Sometimes, I Wonder if I Will Dying Trying to Score Blow
He pulled out some coke from his pocket. And I should’ve known better. As soon as I got a taste of his excellent cocaine, he started strangling me. Hard. I thought he might crush my windpipe. He held me against the wall with his hand on my throat. And I heard him unzip his pants. Strangling felt like the least of the evils. He wanted to explore his rape phone sex fantasies with me.
The music sounded so loud outside, combined with all the talking. I didn’t think anybody would hear me scream. But he kept his hand on my throat the entire time so I could not truly scream as he forced his cock in and out of my pussy. At least he let me get high first, I thought to myself. Maybe he didn’t want me to feel the pain.
He fucked my pussy hard. By the time he finished, he released his grip on my throat, and I fell to the ground with a thud. He spit on me and called me a whore. Tossed me a little bag of coke to get me through game at best. Now I have a ring around my neck from his hands. And I still don’t have enough coke to get through another week.
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