I Don’t Fuck Around, I Kill

Snuff Phone SexThe weekends are for hunting. Fresh blood gets my cunt all drippy and slippy, and I love to fuck myself with my huge black dildo. I was sitting at the bar when this older man approached me. “Hi, I’m Levi. Can I buy you a drink?” I didn’t give a fuck what his name was, but I let him go ahead and buy me some Jim Beam Sour Apple shots. He chattered on about his day, and his interests, and how beautiful I was. All I could think about was ripping out his fucking tongue.
I wondered what his cock would look like stuffed down his throat. I wanted to put his tongue up his asshole. I wanted to hurt this mother fucker more and more with every breath he took. What a useless meat bag.
But, needed to play the game, I turned and batted my long lashes at him. My eyes were intense as I rose and beckoned him to follow me out into the alley. “So you want to fuck around?” He grinned. He thought he was finally getting some ass. He was going to get something alright. I nipped him with a needle right in his neck, and that tranquilizer had him collapsed in seconds. “I don’t fuck around, meat bag. I kill.”
He woke up in my playroom; the sub-basement of my home. He was chained, and hanging from the ceiling by his wrists alone, toes barely grazing the floor. I stood before him, just as naked as he was. My cunt was running rivers down my thighs, and the smile on my face was pure sadism. I didn’t know if I’d be killing him tonight, or if I’d flay him strip by strip. I’ll let you know what I decide, and how it goes; for him, that is. Either way, baby girl is a fucking winner. I can’t wait to fuck my dildo, and use his blood as lube.

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