I have been feeling particularly twisted lately and my latest taste of torturous fun is very interesting. It has been keeping my pussy nice and wet for days now. I have lost count of how many victims I have played with over the last few days. I have body parts every where and each time I look at them and remember the screams, the agonizing pain, it makes me cum all over again. What diabolical, evil means of torture have I been implementing you ask? I will tell you….I have been grabbing unsuspecting and random people. I haven’t been particular about age or sex. The only requirement has been that they are alive and lucid. I created a machine in my basement that is crude but does the trick. It has two pieces of wood that are connected to heavy springs. I pull them down and latch them in place. Then I place my victim on them binding their ankles and wrists to the wood. When I pull the lever the spring create a great force, pulling the wood up and apart and ripping the bodies in half. The screams are deafening but brief however they are blood curdling and enough to make me flood my panties with cum. It is the purest erotic sensation ever and I am loving every minute of it.
Tag: Bloody Phone Sex
Accomplice phone sex
The way you react seeing your first dead body is never how you expect it to be. They dragged her in the house midday Tuesday. I was cleaning up after a long night of the men pre-gaming before the club when the door swung open. Rodrigo had a little chicquita flung over his shoulder as the others followed behind him. He slammed the door and threw her body on the ground. I knew she was still alive when she hit the floor and groaned. She was about my height but a little thicker. She had a fat ass and medium sized tits. If I was a free whore I would definitely fuck around with her. Rodrigo told me to tie her up to the bed and put down a tarp. She and I knew exactly what he planned on doing hence why she started to fight back. I had to knock this bitch out before she did the same to me. Rodrigo was impressed at how well ii fought back but his being impressed was the last thing on my mind. I tied her up as quickly as possible and slapped her until she woke up. I was ready to see someone besides myself be the victim for once. Rodrigo pulled out his cock and pissed all over her. She screamed were gargled as his piss filled her mouth and ran down her chest. I cackled with sick pleasure as he shoved his cock down her pissy face hole. Then, I fingered my pussy as she screamed from the pain of his cock getting shoved forcefully up her ass. Finally I came all over my panties when she slit her throat and came all over her bloody dead body… I never found out what that girl did to deserve that, but I really didn’t care.
Cannibalism phone sex
Finding quality fresh meat gets harder by the day. I have many creative ways to find meat but the pickings for humans with just the right flesh, just the right age for tenderness and flavor and not on drugs are getting harder and harder to find. I wish there was a human meat market for those of us that enjoy the flavor of human flesh. If you have never tried it you just don’t know what your missing. There are so many ways to prepare it, so many different ways to season and flavor it. I prefer to roast my human on an open spit, slowly turning the body for a nice even golden brown on the skin. Making it nice and crispy and so good for snacking on like chips. My favorite cut is the nice meaty flesh of the inner thigh. Just the right mix of flesh and fat for a flavorful plate full of tender, tasty meat. The arms are wonderful for stew meat and the organs are so delicious, especially the liver and kidney. My favorite organ however is the heart. I love to remove it and feel it beating in my hands before I drop it in a post of seasoning and cook it ever so slowly for a mouth watering treat. I would love to open my very own meat market ans share my love for this fine dining.
Torture Phone Sex with Cassandra: Payback with a Cattle Prod
I have always been a subby bitch to men; however, when it comes to women I can be a switch hitter. When I was younger, I thought most girls were beneath me. I mean I am a tall beautiful goddess with huge tits. I could steal any man I wanted. In fact, in college, I often did. Not because I wanted the man necessarily, but just because I could. There was this one girl whose boyfriends I regularly stole because she was a fat mean cunt and didn’t deserve handsome men anyway. I saw her recently at the mall and I didn’t recognize her at all as she had lost so much weight and was actually kind of hot. She of course recognized me. We buried the hatchet and she invited me out for drinks. I met her, and I thought all was well, until I woke up in her basement tied to some table spread eagle with a baseball bat up my ass. She was fucking torturing my ass and when I started to scream and plead why, she simply said, “Because I can.” I begged for mercy for my ass. But she kept shoving bigger things inside me. My ass was being shredded. I could feel splinters in my ass. She pulled the bat out and it was covered in blood and shit and she shoved it down my throat and said, “Clean it up whore.” Then I glanced over and I say a medical tray filled with devices and one looked like a cattle prod. I pleaded again, but she didn’t care that I was a changed woman. She was hell bent on her revenge. A cattle prod would electrocute my ass, and may damn well kill me. She looked at me with an evil grin and said, “Cattle prods are hugs with oomph.” She then rammed that thing up my already destroyed ass. The rest is a blur.
Taboo phone sex with a stiff
He was very attractive: dark hair, tall, and confident. I crossed his path on the way to work only because I took a different route from a friend’s house downtown. Otherwise, I would have never seen him. But, as fate would have it, luck was on my side. I followed him for a little over a week; I knew where he went for dry cleaning and what days; who he was fucking when he could tear himself away from work; and even how he treated his clients. I became a little obsessed, even planting a recording device in his office and car. He was a ruthless stock broker; and, the more I learned about his method of cheating the system, the more I liked him. In fact, I was having second thoughts about killing him; but, of course, my nature got the best of me.
It was not difficult at all… I followed him home like I have done so many times; and, of course he was on his cell phone, making deals. I waited until he had finished his conversation and walked through the door to what should be a sanctuary. I tranquilized him and then drug his limp body to his desk, which I thought fitting to make a holding table. I had drilled holes, attached cuffs, and tried to make it as pretty as possible while scarring the slick mahogany wood. When he awoke, he didn’t struggle; rather, he tried to barter with me. Poor bastard. That made me like him even more.
I had brought an x acto knife and several tools. I sliced into his creamy flesh that probably had never had a bruise; I watched with satisfaction as his rich blood dripped onto the plush white carpet. I told him what I was carving into his flesh and we talked as I did so; I had to stage this carefully and thought that an angry client would be the best potential suspect. After I was done, then I could begin the fun: I sliced both of his nipples, exposing the tissue and taunting him with his own dangling nipples. Then, I dug my heel in the wounds. I sawed off his legs, the bloody masses falling to the ground with thuds. Gurgling blood, he stopped convulsing, and I knew he was dead. Finally, I did something that I hadn’t done in over a decade: I took off my clothes and mounted him, fucking his cock until I came several times. I realized that must have been my ultimate motive…since his dick was the one thing that I had left unharmed.
Blair Meets the Puppetmaster
Help me. I have been kidnapped by a deranged doll maker. I have been held captive for days , while he conducts evil, painful experiments on me. He has deprived me of food and water. And, I am constantly in some form of suspension like a life size marionette doll. In fact, he told me I was doll like and he wanted to use me to create the perfect life size marionette. What the fuck? Those dolls are creepy. Always in horror movies, taunting people, scaring brats. Who does this guy think he is? The Dr. Frankenstein of dolls? I tried to beg and plead with him, but he keeps shocking me and stringing me up from the ceiling. He said next he was gonna cut my limbs and sew string through them and even slice my mouth open like the Joker to give me the authentic look of a marionette doll. He is gonna dismember and torture me so he can have his own personal creepy ass doll. Who is he, The Puppetmaster? This sick, evil, sadistic mother fucker is enjoying my pain, my screams, my starvation. He says I’m just a stupid, worthless cunt and no one will miss me. He says all girls should be seen but never heard and that is why we make the perfect dolls. You don’t agree with him , do you? Please someone help me. Anyone. I will be a good girl; I will be quiet. You can do whatever you want to me, just let me live and get me the fuck out of this house of horrors.
Cuts
I have big round tits that bitches had always been jealous about. I try not to showboat or draw attention to myself but last night I got punished for someone looking at me. My master let his nigger whore come with him and pick one thing from the store to enjoy. I was so excited when I saw an outfit laid out on my cot. Night after night he made me stay in the basement for beatings and to suck his cock whenever he wanted it. I was so grateful he stopped beating me two days prior so all my bumps and bruises went down. They were barely noticeable to me but when I walked into the store all eyes were on me. Though my tits were about to burst out of the shirt master said I could still come. Master had me in a pretty red shirt and black skirt that obviously drew the attention of multiple men. The more they looked the harder he would squeeze my hand. By the time we passed aisle three we had already turned around and went back to the car. Master smacked me right across the face. “You love that type of attention don’t you? Stupid black bitch” I was in such shock I just held my cheek and let the tears roll down. He pulled me out the car and up the driveway by my hair. When we got in, he threw me down the stairs and watched me lay there. I thought the worst had happened but when he came downstairs he had a switchblade in his hand. I tried to run but he yanked me by my hair again and with one swift motion cut it all off. Then he threw me on the ground and ripped my shirt off. I was trying to fight but he just kept punching and cutting me. He sliced away at my black tits exposing the white meat. He forced me to lift my skirt so he could shove his cock inside of me as well. He was defacing my body in so many ways I wanted to just black out. “This is what happens to arrogant niggers like you bitch” he grunted as he trashed my cunt and breast at the same time. To top off the humiliation, when he was done with me he shot his load all over my open wounds, my face, and my now butchered hair. He left me there covered in cum and in a pool of my own blood.
Bloody Phone Sex with Cassandra: Gut Me Like a Pig
Bloody phone sex is what I crave. I am a total whore to blood. When I was a little girl, I cut myself to watch the blood run out of me. I would masturbate as I lay there bleeding. Feeling the warm gush of hot, sticky blood run over my limbs made my clit throb. Now, as a full grown pain slut and subby bitch, I need more. One of my many warped and depraved sexual fantasies is to be kidnapped, strung upside down and sliced open and gutted like the pig I am. My insides falling out of me; totally eviscerated for the pleasure of a blood thirsty cannibal who lay beneath me. In my ultimate bloody fantasy, a sexy naked female cannibal uses a male accomplice to hunt me down like a wild animal. He brings me back to his mistress’s lair, strings me up upside down while I dangle screaming for mercy over her naked body. He then gives her a massive sickle knife and she cuts the arteries in my legs so blood spurts out of me, covering her in my blood. Underneath me she lay, masturbating as my blood drains out of my body onto hers. When I am still breathing, but just barely, almost drained dry of all my blood, her accomplice slices my belly open so my organs spill out onto his mistress, giving her another hard orgasm. Then with my dead carcass above her, they feast on my bloody entrails, saving some of my organs to cook later and eat for dessert.
Do you have bloody phone sex fantasies you want to explore with me? I promise to get off good and hard as you drain me of my blood. Cum gut this pig. You know you want to jack your throbbing cock off as you watch the life and blood drain slowly out of me.
The sound of my switchblade
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.
Opportunity
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…