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.
Tag: Bloody Phone Sex
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…
If Only
When he beats me I go off into my own fairytale. Instead of harsh lashes all up and down my back they are gently placed kisses. I try to mute out the pain by pretending it’s the static formed by the electricity between us. When we first met I was the most beautiful thing in his world. Now, I get beatings and black eyes if I look at him the wrong way. He much rather smoke his dope than be with the bitch he vowed to honor and respect. Recently, I’ve just been a whore he uses to get his next fix. My cunt is worthless to him now. Just like it is to every mother fucker that decides to put their cock in me. I close my eyes and make the thoughts go away. I drift back to my happy place where the sun is shining a bright as my smile. He’s holding me in his arms and nibbling on my neck like a piece of sweet chocolate cake. I love him and he loves me. Now, I hate that mother fucker and I’m pretty sure he hates me too. He forces his dick in me whenever he wants. When he’s ready to bust a nut he pulls out and I always have to swallow his cum. To him “Spitting and swallowing are the difference between like and love”. Sometimes he just face fucks me for hours. He says he doesn’t want my filthy twat and when he’s done I can’t swallow or speak. Sometimes in my fairytale I kill his pathetic ass. That’s my favorite part. For each time he made me suck or fuck one of his dope suppliers I cut him with a blade. For every tear I shed I want a drop of blood at my feet. By the time I’m done he is sliced up from head to toe begging for mercy. The only mercy I spare on him is dousing him in bleach instead of ammonia. Then, as I sit back and smoke a cigarette I watch him drown in a bloody chemical bath. If only I wasn’t a victim to his power.
Belly of the Beast
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.
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
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?
Stalking Blair
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.
Babysitter and the Man Upstairs
I started babysitting for this new family in the area a few weeks ago. Everything seemed to be going good. They had two little ones. They were adorable. I knew this would be easy money. Just get to sit around the house all day and watch them. Everything was going good. Until that one night. I had just put the brats to bed. I was downstairs in the living room sitting in front the T.V watching a good movie. My cell rang and it was an unknown number. I answered and it was the hot guy from school that I had a crush on. I couldn’t believe he was calling me, me of all people? I was so excited. We talked for a hour and then the house phone rang. I told him I’d have to get back up with him about that date. I answered the house phone and it just felt weird before anyone said anything on the other line. The hair on my arms and back of my neck stood up. It was a strange man with a raspy voice. He started asking me all these questions. At first I thought it was someone from school playing a joke so I went with it. I started to get freaked out so I hung up. Then he’d call back. Asking more personal questions. I had come to realize it wasn’t a joke. This was seriously a creepy man. The phone rang again, and he asks a question that made me feel like the air had been knocked out of me. He asked me when was the last time I’ve checked on the little ones and if I have been checking on them. Granted it had been a while, but what could they get into while they are sleeping. I’m so freaked out I call the police. They said they’d do their best to trace the call and call back and let me know.
With what seemed like hours, but really only minutes, the phone rang and I almost jumped out of my skin. They made my heart drop with the next few sentences that they said. They informed me that the call was coming from inside of the house. That I needed to get the little ones and get out as soon as possible. I froze and the phone fell from my hand. As I’m rounding the corner to head into the living room, I see red and blue lights flashing through the windows. I run to the front door and let them in and they come rushing in. I point them to the stairs and we’re all running up to the little ones room. Soon as we get into the door, my hair is standing up again. The same feeling I got when the stranger was on the phone. I look to the left and see a shadow of a man jumping out the window to the tree and down he went. One of the officers turned on the lights and what I saw I will never forget. It was too late, the little ones had been brutally murdered. There was blood every where. Written in blood on the wall above their beds was, “You’re mine”. Was he talking about me? I don’t even know this man. What did he want from me? I didn’t care if cops was all over the house. I had to get outside and get fresh air, and a smoke. I went to the dark side of the house so they wouldn’t see me smoking. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking and getting that brutal image out of my head. What did they go through? Did they feel any pain? I heard leaves and branches crackle behind me. As I turned to see, a hand came over my mouth and started dragging me into the shadows.
I was tied and blind folded with tape across my mouth. I was taken to a basement. I only realized this once my blindfold was gone. The man had an evil smirk on this face. I was thrown onto the bed and tied up. He stripped his clothes off and pushed my skirt up and pulled my panties to the side. I’ve been waiting for this he said. He rammed his hard cock roughly inside my cunt. I tried to scream out but he covered my mouth. He said I’d have plenty of time to scream later. Once he was done pounding my fuck box he got off and went to his phone. I could hardly hear what he was saying. I knew that he was talking to someone he was telling to come over and bring friends. I guess I must of passed out because I woke up to 4 men surrounding me. They were shoving foreign objects inside of me. I can’t describe the pain, anything they could their hands on. Rolling pin, cucumber, their fist. I was being stretched more then I could take, I was fading in and out. Screaming and crying. I was fucked in all my holes, over and over again. That was a few weeks ago. I managed to escape when he got drunk and forgot to tie me back up. I didn’t fight it when he fucked me. I made sure it was what he wanted and tired his drunk ass out. I ran as fast as I could. Naked, scared and alone. Bruised, broken and in pain. I don’t go outside anymore. I don’t look out my window. I wont even babysit. I still to this day have not seen or talked to the little ones family. I haven’t even used my phone. I am scared of my own shadow and I can’t forget what all those men have done to me. They still haven’t been caught.
Killer Phone Sex with Blair: The Legend of the Hook Man
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….