Tag: Goth Teen Phone Sex

Portrait of Death

Portrait Of Death ~ NarcissusNarcosis

I will never forget the night
I first experienced the delight
of what it felt like
to take another human’s life..
I had fantasized nonstop
for a very long time
I knew no drug could top
the high I would find…

I spent the days leading up
carefully dissecting my plan
deciding how it would come to fruition
stalking out my first victim..
Still not sure why I picked him
maybe it was because he seemed
so set in doing good deeds.
And no good deed goes unpunished…

I tirelessly studied
his daily routines
even went to church
to watch him preach.
He would stand at his altar
babbling on and on about
hell, brimstone, and fire.
He talked about how demons walked the earth
to bring about the end.
If only he knew
the demon that would end him
was in the front row…

He had a beautiful wife
2 young  tykes and a dog
she would be a widow
weeping at an empty altar
and those brats would grow up
without a father.

I sharpened my blades well
different knives for different purposes
one for stabbing, one for slicing,
one for peeling skin
and a meat cleaver for dicing.
A bone saw to dismember
along with a small plastic case
to keep a trophy of him with me
forever…

He was a set-in-his-ways man
so I knew what he would be doing
we had a very nice date planned
no way it could be ruined.
I dressed in black fatigues
long-sleeve black shirt and black boots.
My tools were already in my car
as I left my house with a smile
didn’t have to drive far
he lived away only a few miles.

I drove to his house and parked
and waited for him to depart
just as expected, 8:29 PM
he said bye to the brats.

I followed him to the parking lot
of the Saturday night restaurant
he always went to
meeting friends at the I-HOP
for some self-righteous laughs and food.
He always parked at the side of the building
where I knew no cameras were filming
I crept behind him with a wire in my clutch
wrapped around his throat
until he ceased to choke
then dragged him to my trunk.
Once he was properly bound and gagged
we were off, on our way back to my pad.

He awoke wide-eyed with a look of fear
strapped to a table in the heart of my shed
I removed the tape so I could hear
him pray to a god that was already dead.
He asked me why I was doing this
and offered me money to let him go
said he had a family, had 2 brats
and I replied, “I already know.”

I took my time and had fun with him
wanted to see how much pain a body could withstand
I burned him with a torch and hammered his feet
and drove nails through his knees.
After such a short time, he could take no more
he kept passing out, he was such a bore…
I slit his throat and watched him bleed out
he almost looked like a pez dispenser..

After hours of cleaning up
any and all traces of blood
I placed his head neatly in a duffel bag
with a hole drilled through his skullcap.
I decided to play nice after all his work
and took him back to his very own church.
I used his keys to get in the back entrance
and placed his head on the altar
through the top was jammed a crucifix…
What a beautiful sight that would greet the Sunday crowd
I decided to go again to hear them scream aloud…

It all felt so right…
I knew I would be powerless to resist the urge
to kill again…
but this was only my first victim..
I had some great ideas and plans
to taunt the police
and let them know
something stronger than them
is taking over…

One for The Money

There’s this skank I know who doesn’t understand how to keep her piehole shut. She’s been causing a lot of shit to hit the fan running that mouth of hers, so I decided to use it for something useful–making me money. How many dicks can you fit down the throat hole of an annoying little twat? Mmmm, baby, let’s find out.

I’ll get the scissors and we can cut a nice, neat little slit right across that little bitch’s tummy. Everyone loves a nice pussy hole, asshole, and of course a tight, wet pink throat hole–but I’ve got a bigger plan. How would you like to whip that rock hard cock right out of those pants, baby . . . take it in your hand and grasp that boner while it twitches. Feel the heat radiating off of it in droves and picture pumping it in and out of this stupid fuckcunt. 

I’ll sell this whore out and get her nice and used up, so by the time I’m ready to snuff her out, she’s made me mounds of cash. It won’t be hard to get her to the area where she’ll spend the next weeks of her life as a living cumdoll. I’ll just sprinkle a ‘lil something-something in her drink to keep her nice and compliant while she’s fucked up and creamed in. Such a stupid cunt . . . she’ll regret crossing me, that’s for sure. I’m gonna mess that bitch the fuck up.

this little light of mine…

I like to hang out in houses that aren’t exactly finished. Some say it’s because I’m ’emo.’ Others give me frightened glances and then quickly lower their eyelids before my own shoot back. They think I don’t hear their whispers in the halls, catch their fearful expressions when I walk past; but I always do. The other day I was in my room, peeling the corner of a NIN poster back, and realized I was feeling a little chilly . . . and no, before you say it, it wasn’t just my cold heart. I needed some heat, a little excitement, a risk–and of course, a prize. So I slipped on my loafers and wandered into Northhaven–the quaint little subdivision being built a few miles down the road from me.

And there it was…a two-story McMansion under construction before me, with raindrop-splattered tarps and a material-strewn front lawn. I snickered to myself; this was just too easy. Crawling up onto a bulldozer on the left side of the house, I wiggled my way in through the open window. Brushing myself off, I surveyed my surroundings. It wasn’t long before I heard the voices of the very young little ones whom I’d overhead planning a trip here earlier that day. I cackled to myself and strode across the wooden planks of the upstairs bedroom, careful to avoid the unfinished sections of the house with exposed beams.

Following the giggles, I walked to the utmost back room and hide behind the large stone fireplace obstructing me from their view. I peeked out slowly and . . .

There they were: my prizes. Two of ’em–a little boy and his bitch, drinking vodka procured from their parents’ liquor cabinet, no doubt. I stood there silently for awhile and watched them pass the bitter drink back and forth between each other. Their faces twisted into grimaces as the burning heat flooded down their throats each into the pit of their stomachs. And my hands were struck with a sudden and distinct urge to rub together greedily.

Play time . . .

Baby, I’ll tell you all about what kinds of horrible things I made these two little songbirds do to one another with their pants off. Alice gave them a nice taste of what grown-up fun feels like . . . and then she added in some of her own sickness. Sitting on their faces, pissing down their throats. I stripped that little virgin bitch’s dignity and innocence away with her little boyfriend’s erect cock, and he wanted to cum inside of that cunt so bad, I bet he would’ve thanked me if I hadn’t had my fist rammed down his throat. When I was done with my game and the sky was growing dark outside . . . I stepped over the broken glass of the once-solid vodka bottle. Grabbing it along with my shoes, I strode back out the window, pouring liquid all the way.

. . . A bright orange spark flaring–I dropped the match. Flames. And then I walked away and left the dying screams behind me.

I’M INto CHoking your life And RaidinG your pEace of mind

Wanna know what gets me wet? Seeing the fingerprint imprints my hands make as I’m squeezing the breath out of your slimy throat. I like watching the abrasive red splotches darken to deep purple bruises as a result of my handiwork. It takes serious skill to stop the convulsing long enough to get a good knee kick into the underside of a fucking guy’s chin. An elbow across the forehead will split apart the skin . . . and as the blood is pouring out of the slash in his head, I’m doing an uppercut with my fist connecting all the pieces. It brings a smile to my face every time I see it. Maybe someday I’ll be a good little girl and pray before dinner, but for now, if you’re gonna fuck with me, be prepared to fear it…

Cutter

There’s something exhilarating about taking a razor blade to my wrist and slicing through the tender flesh. I fucking love to get off on rough sex. I fucking love self-mutilation because it makes me feel like I’m goddamn invincible. I’m always looking for a fight; tempt me, push me pussies . . . I need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze. I especially love torturing others. There’s nothing like the anguished screams of teens to fill a room with angst. Sexual mutilation is my favorite. Nothing beats the sickness. One time, I stitched a bitch’s pussy shut with a rusted sewing needle from my Mom’s old needlepointing kit in the garage. I used thick black yarn and beat her to the brink of death with a brick right in the head. I desperately kicked her ribs in and sewed her up like a puppet. She was so messed up by the time I started closing her holes up. No more dick in that little bitch, let me tell you. That sleazy ass whore wouldn’t be fucking anybody’s boyfriend anytime soon. Especially not MINE. That dumb little skank screamed like a banshee when I stitched her up, but the end result was fucking sick. I love my crazy mind . . . and you will too.

Maybe if I like you, I’ll show you a little bit of my mutilation magic using the slut of your choice. I’ll get a big ole knife or maybe a razor blade fresh from the shower, separated perfectly from the plastic handle and ready to slice deep. Then I’ll take her ass cheeks into my palms and give them a nice squeeze, getting them ready for my fun. We can always fuck her and fill her up with the thick white loads of creamy cum that mark a little whore, but we’ll need lots of spud. Get that hard cock and lube it up with her blood, baby. I’m going to make a nice pretty cut and carve my name . . . this stupid cunt will never forget who owns her ass. 

Gothic Teen Torture

Gothic phone sex

Goth teenagers are always hanging around the downtown area, where I like to stroll at night.  As I sat on a park bench and watched the annoying joking of young imbeciles, one stood out in particular.  She looked a little older than the others, but she carried herself far worse…all hunched over.  I squinted into the dark and saw the culprit of her odd gait: a cane.  It wasn’t for appearances; rather, she shifted her weight on it for support in order to walk.  I became intrigued by her and decided that I’d come back another night to learn more about her.  To my surprise, when I returned the next night, she was sitting on my bench, beneath the shadows of the trees.  She wasn’t ugly, but I could definitely tell now that she was a teenager, despite looking older than the others.  When she spoke, she was articulate, the only indications of her youth were some words, such as “like” and “omg.”  I’ve never understood why people want to talk in text code as if they are some kind of computer.

She told me this sad tale of her life; and, I actually listened because it wasn’t what I was expecting.  She had been beaten, molested, and scarred by her father since she was very young.  She still lived with him when she couldn’t find enough food on the streets.  With unusual clarity for such a young person, she told me that she wanted to die…but that she wanted to die the same way that she had lived: by torture.  It was an unusual request, but she was emphatic.  Without much thought, I followed her to a nearby graveyard, where she had set up several butcher knives and a makeshift alter.  “Take all of my power away,” she said.  Instinctively, I picked up her cane and began whipping her with it.  I told her what a horrible daughter and disgrace that she was; she added her own insults and prostrated herself on the makeshift alter that was really just a large, jagged stone.  I raised one butcher knife at a time, leveled it in her face, and struck her with it; She was pinned to the rock like the injured animal that she was.  I took her wooden cane, broke it in half, and shoved it through her heart.  Her last gasps were gurgles; and, as the blood rolled between her lips, I noticed glistening tears coating the dark black makeup that surrounded her eyes.  It was beautiful and haunting.  I’m sure that she was proud.

Rape phone sex fantasies Alice ~ do the dirty

I am not a law abiding citizen of America. I say this fully intending to disclose a little secret I’ve been keepin’ about my true self. Maybe I’m not a picture perfect version of the United States’ sweetheart, but I can make you cum harder then anyone has every made you orgasm in your life.

That’s because I know what you really want. The stuff you’re way too scared to tell your wife or girlfriend. The dirty, nasty, sickeningly dark and violating aspects of human life. You want to mess up a slut and fuck your way through an entire all girls Catholic school, don’t you?

Well, I can help you with that. See, I have a thing for babysitting little ones myself. I can get in undetected and let you in through the front door without a hint of suspicion from the neighbors. When we have those young little babies all to ourselves, that’s when the fun begins. You try to keep your hands to yourself, but those pigtails and cute little diapers are too much for you to resist. It’s okay . . . bite into those miniature asses. I won’t tell a soul. That’s because I’m just as twisted as you are, baby . . . even more.

Down South

Where have I been, you may be asking yourselves. Well I don’t have to answer to you motherfuckers! I went to a concert in Mobile, Alabama and got fucking turned around because the goddamn toll both stiffed me a dollar twenty-six. Are you fucking shitting me?! That stupid ass bitch stole from Bianca. So I was all enraged and ready to twist a neck off when I realized I was going the wrong way. The hell? Turns out I was in some redneck dive called Pascagoula. I crossed the state lines . . . I know what you’re thinking, so shut your damn trap. It’s an evil, sick ass place. Just because it’s bumfuck Mississippi doesn’t mean they’re gonna hand you sweet tea in a mason jar or some shit like that. Fuck that! It’s a wild ass neighborhood. Most of the citizens consider the day wasted if they haven’t violated a goat by noon. It’s sickeningly dark there. One wrong turn, and you’ll wind up in the trunk of a Cadillac, never to be seen or heard from again. So of course I took this opportunity to explore. I headed straight for the Brass Monkey. It might as well be called The Drunk Asshole Bar, because the company was wicked! When I was leaving, I spotted a guy trying to break into my car. Not. fucking. okay. I reached for the crowbar I keep in my purse and bashed him in the fucking head. He grunted and fell to the cement. I just kept beating and smashing the metal bar into his skull until it exploded with red goo and I kicked him aside, slid into my vehicle, and drove away. Byebye Mississippi. I don’t have to fear any thing or any place. You fuckers fear ME.

Alice with an ‘A’

 

‘A’ is for Alice. ‘A’ is for awesome…and it also stands for asshole. That’s right. I’ve been ass fucking lately. I find it’s best to do without any lube. Not on me, of course. I prefer to watch a little one get reamed while I chomp on some popcorn from a safe vantage point nearby. It makes me laugh so hard when their itty bitty eyes get wide in fear and they whimper and shriek in pain. It makes my wet pussy hole get nice and turned on, too. I always want to fuck a stiff dick after watching a tiny, precious little munchkin get used and abused by a big, strong adult. Haha. I guess I have a weird sense of humor, but don’t try to lie to me, baby. You like it, too, now don’t you.

Cunt Watering Again . . . for REVENGE

I am such a selfish twat. I want what I want. Think that’s not fair? Then try to take it from me, motherfucker. I’ll have your dick strung up to the ceiling to hang like a depressed kitty cat cunt. Your left ball sack will be severed and shoved down your throat in a millisecond. Ever had your eyeball gouged out with a rusted spoon and sewed midway into your snout hole so that you’re choking on your own black bile? Yesterday’s piggy pie doesn’t taste nearly as good coming up the wrong way, baby. I warn the people in my life well enough and very often. I tell them not to mess with me. If they don’t listen, it’s their own funeral.

My good friend Jerry missed this little memo, I’m afraid. He came around yesterday looking for some ‘apples.’ Produce dealers like me know exactly what kind of rough, evil shit this translates into. PCP is the devil’s handiwork, let me tell you. Angel dust might as well be evil incarnate. I’ve seen some stupid goddamn fools fuck themselves up on that shit. You could very well find it reasonable to saw off your own fucking leg.

Anyway, Jerry decided he was HORNY and that my pert little ass looked like a tasty treat for him to munch on. Little did he know, putting the moves on me in a non-consensual way is a very, very bad idea. It took me quite awhile to clean up the mess he made. You see, I had to take my baseball bat and bash his skull into the ground until it splintered and cracked. I think I might’ve gotten a little peek at his brains–if he ever had any at all–but otherwise, I made a nice meat stew out of his head.

Then I went around back and fed it to my new doggie. That’s right. I’ve got a new Great Dane. Her name’s Cat. She’s no pussy, though. She’s a hunting hound the size of a fucking horse. Her favorite food just so happens to be human, too. She’ll finish off my leftovers very nicely. Bianca’s Body Farm is back up and running, motherfuckers. Cum at me. I dare you. You’ll find yourselves fucked up and stuck inside of a blender the size of a big ass puppy dog’s jaws. Seriously, I am one skinny ass bitch you don’t want to piss off. You’ve been warned.