Tag: killer phone sex

Snuff Porn Video Casting Call for The Best Role

When I stumbled upon an advertisement for Snuff Porn, my cunt got wet. Therefore, I walked into the warehouse with my tight, round ass and firm, perky tits on full display.
Consequently, I knew I looked perfect for this casting call. My name is Geneva, and I was desperate to make it big in extreme porn. The money they offered was insane.
Furthermore, the director explained that it was a snuff film titled “Beheaded and Anally Ruined.” Undeniably, my pussy clenched at the thought of being the star. Of course, I have watched plenty of snuff and knew exactly what I was getting into. So, the idea of my final moments being captured on film made me wet.
Subsequently, I stripped down and bent over the casting couch. My round ass stuck up in the air, and I wiggled it for the camera. Oh, how my tight little shithole twitched in anticipation. Next, the lead actor, Assbuster, approached with his massive cock already hard and leaking.
Moreover, he didn’t bother with lube or foreplay. In fact, he rammed his ten-inch shaft balls-deep into my dry asshole. Consequently, I screamed as my tight ring tore open around his thickness. Oh, the pain was exquisite, and I pushed back against him like a good Ass rape porn whore.
Meanwhile, he wrapped a leather belt around my throat and pulled it tight. Quickly, my airway closed off, and my vision blurred. Now, my asshole clenched around his cock as I struggled. Every thrust drove him deeper into my guts.

“Ready for your Snuff Porn close-up?” the director whispered.

Additionally, I felt the belt loosen. I gasped for air, and then the cleaver came down. ultimately, cold steel sliced through my neck. Therefore, my head tumbled from my shoulders, and blood sprayed everywhere.
Then, the orgasm hit me in my final seconds. So, my headless body spasmed, and my asshole milked Assbusters cock.
Next, my bowels released around his shaft as death claimed me. Now, my firm tits jiggled with my death throes while my round ass quivered and danced on his cock.
Finally, I died with a cock buried in my shithole, just like I wanted.
Snuff Porn

Murder Phone Sex Fantasies Come Alive with the Right Accomplice

murder phone sex fantasiesYou can admit your murder phone sex fantasies to me. I have them too. And I have them in droves. Every day that passes, I meet some jackass or some cunt I want to slaughter. And sometimes I enjoy an accomplice for that or sometimes I’m doing it solo. However, yesterday I killed with my young protégé. I’m grooming her, but not for the reason most perverts would groom her. I’m grooming her to be the kind of girl who can get away with murder.

I see so much of myself in this young girl. Full of anger and promise. I just need to teach her how to harness that anger. Normally, when somebody shares a history with a person who ends up dead, that person with the shared history becomes a suspect. That’s why I advocate using surrogates when possible. But sometimes a person just needs to die that much

This douche bag from her school deserved killer phone sex maybe even more than anybody else I’ve ever killed. My protégé told me about this boy from school who tortures animals, films it, and then shows it to a few classmates. Although I plan on going after the boy who enabled him, I wanted to focus on all my pain and rage out on this asshole perpetrator first.

Pick a Fair Fight Loser, Or Die

My protégé lured him to my cabin in the woods. She made it sound like they could torture animals together. Here’s the thing. I like animals more than people. When her classmates saw me, I think he realized he might be a goner. And that did seem to be my plan. I read him a list of his offenses and what I thought would be suitable punishment. We tortured him like he tortured animals. Plus, we filmed it and even live streamed his torture. The animal lovers and the folks with a conscience ate it up.

He deserved torture sex. And deserved the death that followed. We began with cutting his flesh, breaking his limbs, and sodomizing him with a jagged big dildo. The dildo from hell. This loser who could not pick a fair fight, died from blood loss. And hopefully pain too. I planned on dismembering him, but the loser died too quickly. I guess he can dish out the torture, but he can’t take it.

My brilliant protégé picked out a most deserving man. A man deserving of death and torture. In a poetic justice move, I fed him to the animals outside. It felt like they wanted to contribute to his death and torture. My protégé does hold a connection to this loser, so I protected her. And I covered my tracks well. Nobody will ever be able to prove she had anything to do with it. But I’m glad she agreed that anybody who tortures animals should get the death penalty. Of course, I want to be his executioner.

Cannibalism Phone Sex With A Side of Bitch Bone Stew

Cannibalism phone sexCannibalism phone sex fantasies keep my darkest callers on my phones, hearing the stories of us kidnapping young demons making them the main course of the night. 

My last caller had a fantasy, a very sick and twisted fantasy where we went to a school yard and collected the ingredients for our feast. 

Two pretty young and tender ankle biters, when we get them back to the house, we violate all of their holes two times. 

Using dildos and butt plugs to stretch them out, their screams filled the room, we both are turned on to the max, once finished torturing their holes leaving them gaping. 

Suffocating both their small bodies, it was my turn to shine, fileting their small bodies, chopping their limbs off, dicing their bodies in cubes for a delicious stew filled with celery onions, potatoes and carrots. 

Hours later the flesh is nice and tender, I prepare my Master a huge bowl of bitch bone stew, rubbing my cunt as I watch daddy enjoy my delicious meal. 

Do you want a bowl ?

Men with Rape Phone Sex Fantasies for Me Never Live

rape phone sex fantasiesMen who harbor rape phone sex fantasies for me never live. And if they do live, they live without their balls and sometimes even without their dicks. I think I spell it out very clearly in my blogs that I’m not some sex doll for you to use. I’m a dominant fucking bitch. And a sadistic one at that.

I’ve killed men for less than trying to force fuck me. Perhaps, you could say I possess Spider-Man senses. I always know when some pathetic little bitch boy tries to put something in my drink. Men never realize this, but they make a special kind of nail polish for women. And that nail polish changes colors when it encounters roofie drugs.

Of course, a woman invented that to keep other women safe. And in a way I’m a vigilante for women who I don’t even like. I’m not a clique kind of girl. So, I don’t really have a girl squad or anything. Perhaps you could say I’m equally mean to everyone. Something changed in the past year or so. Men feel more emblazoned to take what they want even when it’s not theirs to take.

Men Who Fantasize About Violating Me Never Live

Perhaps I just felt like killer phone sex. It didn’t take much this weekend for me to decide to kill a man. When I get in my murderous mood, I do my best to uphold a certain code. However, I am a less principled Dexter. I think even Dexter would agree Marcus deserved to die. Not only did I find Marcus on the brat offender list, but his rap sheet also appears to be at least a mile long. And it includes everything from armed robbery to drugs to sexual assault. Marcus might not have wronged me, but he rounded enough people to put him on my radar.

So, I hunted him this weekend and observed him in action. I observed a predator preying on drunk coeds. Now I’m not a fan of coeds in general. For the most part, they behave like rabid dogs. They would kill each other over a cute frat boy. Coeds seem self-absorbed, mean and shallow.

Marcus needed to go. Not necessarily because I wanted to champion drunk coeds. It’s just the principle of the matter. Taking advantage of drunk women, seems like a pussy move. Some men can only prey on women if they drug them because they can’t handle fighting a woman. My guess most women would neuter Marcus or at least punch him and kick him in the balls repeatedly trying to escape.

For Me, Its More About the Principle of the Matter. A Drugged Woman Does Not Equal a Fair Fight

I saw him putting something into a coed’s drink as I stood at the bar near them. So, I broke a glass to create a distraction and switched their drinks. Marcus became a sloppy drunk quickly, and I escorted him into my car and took him to my cabin in the woods where I mutilated his body. And tortured him for hours, eventually murdering him. But he deserved it. Actions have consequences.

When he woke up, he discovered himself naked, tied to a dining room table spread eagle with a castration band around his balls. And I told him what a dumb ass predator he was because he drank his own roofied drink. Even though I eventually killed this loser, he deserved castration phone sex first I wanted him to think he would survive, just without his balls. Perhaps you could say, I revoked his man card. He didn’t deserve his balls.

I am a Vigilante for Women I Despise

For hours, I carved up his flesh with various sharp instruments. I even carved off some of his flesh which I fed to my dogs and the wildlife nearby. Told you I’m a sick bitch. I enjoy torture. It feels empowering to torture a man like Marcus, who preys on the vulnerable. Honestly, my moral code does not appear close to Dexters. I didn’t really torture him and murder him to protect the future generation of women I could care less about. I hate vapid coeds. But I just felt like killing and torturing a man. And Marcus seemed the perfect mark.

Eventually, this predator died from the wounds I inflicted. And he died before I felt completely satisfied. Oops I did it again. Went a little too rough on him and killed him sooner than I wanted. But the wildlife behind my kill shack seemed excited for the food offering I gave them. Nature will always be the best accomplices when you need to get rid of a body. So, just remember, you can be my accomplice or my victim but if you try to make me your victim, you will be bear shit the next day.

Accomplice Phone Sex Fantasies Feel Cathartic to Me

accomplice phone sexAccomplice phone sex role plays I enjoy. And I think it appears obvious why. It’s better to be the accomplice than the victim any day. Accomplices live. The accomplice usually walks away from any situation unscathed and with money. And I’ve suffered decades of abuse, so it feels good to be the accomplice instead of a victim.

Last night I helped a woman get revenge on a serial predator. Her own uncle. This girl appeared to be college age. Half my age at least. Cute too. But I could tell in those eyes she’s been through some shit. Those dead eyes told a tragic story. And for decades, my eyes appeared the same too. So, I sat down and asked her to tell me all the details on her predatory uncle. It’s research for the job.

He started exploring his rape phone sex fantasies for his niece when she was super young. When she got older, he threatened to kill her baby sister if she said a word. Yeah, I told her I would do the job with pleasure. I wanted to help her kill her uncle because it would feel cathartic to me. Her uncle sounded just like my father. And I’ve yet to exact my revenge on him, but I’ve been practicing.

Feels Cathartic to Assist Younger Girls in the Killing of Predators

We set her uncle up. He thought he would be meeting his niece. Get this. He tried to blackmail her into bringing her baby sister. So, this loser thought he’d be meeting both of his nieces. We did this while my client’s parents went on a cruise. My client agreed to watch her sister for two weeks. So that gave us her house to kill her uncle. I drugged her baby sister so she would sleep through the night, and the screams would not wake her up. And he screamed like a bitch when I torture his junk.

That’s just what we did. We tortured her predatory uncle’s junk until it looked like raw hamburger meat. And we carved that worthless predatory dick and balls up better than a Christmas turkey. At one point I shoved my panties in his mouth because he screamed like such a bitch. Men can never handle the torture sex of their genitals. But her uncle didn’t deserve to keep them, and he didn’t deserve to live for his crimes. If we kept him breathing, he would assault her baby sister. Not on my watch.

I Enjoy Helping Women Get Revenge

We eventually killed him. I stabbed him right through the heart. My client looked him in his eyes as he took his last breath. And she said the look on his face, the shock that his own victim helped kill and torture him seemed worth it. Moments like that seem priceless.

And men never think women can become sadistic killers, thrill seekers, or revenge champions. Women plan out their murders. We are not impulsive killers. So, I think that makes us far more dangerous. Men never see us coming. I gave this young girl a college discount. Feels good to help other women. She can sleep at night and never worry about her baby sister. She’s safe now. They will never find his body. I buried him in a deep grave in the middle of the woods. I’ll do it all again because like I said, it felt cathartic to me. As I killed him, I just thought about dear old dad.

Knife Play Phone Sex is My Favorite

knife play phone sexI do not feel like it’s a secret that I love knife play phone sex. Guns are for losers. When people kill with their bare hands or a knife that seems like a bigger challenge and more satisfying. A gun takes luck, but a knife takes skill.

My love for knives goes back to my schoolgirl days. My grandfather, who served as my mentor, owned over 1000 knives. Perhaps you could call him a collector. He liked all sorts of macabre shit. I inherited all his medieval torture devices, as well as his knife collection and some death row chairs that I repurposed into castration chairs.

My grandpa gave me my first knife. He thought I might need it for protection. But I used it impulsively against this bully bitch who harassed me on my way home from school one day. And I guess I hit just the right place for her to bleed out almost instantly. Now I know where the arteries are located. I know how to prolong death. Knives give you a sort of control that a gun doesn’t. I can cut all over a body, avoiding all the major arteries. And when I get bored, I slice an artery and they die.

Each of My Knives Tells Me a Story and Reminds Me of My Kills

My grandpa covered up my first kill. And then he taught me how to become a great killer phone sex bitch. Essentially, he taught me how to get away with murder and when he died, I inherited over 1000 knives from him. But I already amassed quite the collection of my own. And every knife I own tells a story. Sometimes I go down into my dungeon, and I masturbate with one of the knives.

Now don’t misunderstand me. I’m not shoving that knife anywhere. I’m simply holding it and licking it so I can remember the kills associated with that knife. A lot of serial killers take trophies. However, my knives serve as my trophies. Once my tongue goes across that steel blade, I remember vividly each kill I committed with that knife. I relive it and it gives me sexual pleasure. What can I say? I’m a sick bitch.

But I love my knives. They serve as my souvenirs. All I need to do is hold a knife and the memories of all the kills tied to that knife come flooding back. Thanks to my grandpa. I’m a knife, yielding, sadistic phone sex bitch. And I can either use one of my knives on you to create another hot memory or I can let you use my knife on an unsuspecting young girl that we killing mutilate together. Your choice.

Killer Phone Sex Fantasies Overwhelms Me Because So Many Folks Deserve to Die

killer phone sexWe all possess killer phone sex fantasies. And I believe in this modern age we live in those desires have only strengthened. Personally, I think I deserve some sort of award for not killing every motherfucker I meet daily. Too many fucking idiots and assholes exist. And most days I feel overwhelmed and not sure who to kill first.

Recently, a fellow Goth girl informed me that she encountered an online predator. Well, her daughter did. Her young teenage girl thought that the person she’d been chatting with went to her school. She got catfished by a much older man. And that much older man tried to kidnap her. But this girl knew how to handle herself thanks to her mother. So, she got away. But I started thinking about the next girl who wouldn’t be so lucky.

Despite having an exhaustive snuff sex list of who deserves to die, I put this online predator at the top of the list. And I set a honey trap. He’s not the only pervert who knows how to catfish. My young protégé, wanted to help me with this. So, I used her picture because I felt certain that a man like that would do his research and find out that she goes to the local high school.

This was our version of to catch a predator. When he showed up to meet her, of course he did not realize I laid in wait. We used my house, so we could easily get him into my torture chamber. I don’t know how many girls this man sexually assaulted. But when traced IP addresses, I realized he’s been doing this for a while. So, I plotted revenge for my friend’s daughter and all the other girls who did not escape him.

To Catch a Predator is My Favorite Game

He woke up in my castration chair. He deserved death. But I feel castration phone sex seems like the perfect revenge for a sexual predator. They will keep their urges, but they can no longer fulfill them because I neutered them. Well, this time, my protégé neutered him. I let her enjoy the honors. And she sexually carved up his junk with a rusty old blade. And she joked about how she hopes his dick gets gangrene and falls off. We both had a laugh at that one.

She eventually got to his balls and removed them. My protégé wants to start her own collection of severed balls. A reminder of her vigilantism and a reminder that she can use her murderous impulses for the greater good. And for us, the greater good always involves making the world safer for girls and women. Trust me. I killed and castrated men for less.

But I’m learning now that even if my kill list seems exhaustive, I always meet some loser who goes to the top of the list at hello. This pervert won’t go to the police because he’d have to admit what he’s done. He’d need to be honest about why any woman would want to castrate him. So, I own this ballless wonder now. And so does my young protégé.

Torture Sex Leads To My Ultimate, Devastating Bliss

First off, I crave the edge where pain twists into ecstasy. Ultimately, Torture sex is the greatest. With my body begging for torture that pushes me to the brink.

Tonight, in this shadowed room, my lover binds my wrists above my head with rough rope. In fact, the fibers bite into my skin as he tightens the knots.

Then he circles me like a predator, his eyes dark with hunger. Like a good whore, I arch my back, offering my naked form—breasts heaving, nipples already hard peaks aching for his touch.

Ultimately, he starts slow, trailing a leather whip across my thighs, then cracks it against my ass, the sting exploding like fire. Of course, I gasp, pussy clenching with wet need, juices dripping down my inner legs. But I still need more, ‘More,’ I whisper, my masochistic core throbbing.

Torture Sex is What I Crave

Undeniably, he obliges, lashing my back, each strike reddening my flesh, drawing thin lines of blood that trickle warm. Now, pain surges through me. However, it fuels my Snuff sex desires. With the heat building between my legs, I grind my hips against nothing, desperate for friction.

Next, he drops the whip and grabs my throat. With fingers digging into my windpipe, he laughs. Essentially, strangulation grips me, air cut off as he squeezes, my vision blurring at the edges.

Instinctively, I buck against him, lungs burning, but my clit pulses wildly. Finally, he forces two fingers into my soaking pussy, thrusting hard while choking me tighter.

Moreover, stars burst behind my eyes; asphyxiation heightens every sensation. Bringing my pussy clamping down on his invading digits as orgasm builds in suffocating waves.

‘You’re mine to break,’ he growls, releasing just enough for a ragged breath. Once that little bit of air is gasped in my lungs, he slams his cock into me.

Effectively, he pounds relentlessly, hand back on my neck, cutting off my air again. After all, strangulation phone sex is what I crave.

Now, I convulse, body on fire, the taboo thrill of snuff play making me wetter. Then he strangles harder, my face purpling, pussy spasming around his thick shaft as I cum violently. Ultimately, squirting over his balls. But he doesn’t stop. Simultaneously fucking through my blackout haze, until he floods me with hot seed. Now my final gasps,  a symphony of dark fantasies bliss.

Torture Sex

In this fantasy, death dances close, but release pulls me back—addicted to the torture that makes me alive.

Snuff Sex So Many Men Seem Deserving of These Days

snuff sexSome people seem more deserving of snuff sex than others. And I know I’m not a highly moral person. And by that I just mean, the people I kill maybe the average person would never murder. I used to suffer from an impulse disorder. If somebody pissed me off, I usually killed them on the spot. But that’s how you get caught. And my grandpa helped me with my impulse issues. Turned me into a highly skilled assassin essentially.

Now if somebody pisses me off, I don’t kill them. Well, I don’t kill them immediately. I let my anger fester for them, and I plot their demise so that I can get away with their murder. Few people have killed as many people as me. Now some of my kills I will admit men paid me. A sort of killer phone sex babe for hire sort of thing. But I’m being truthful. I’ve killed a lot more people for sport and revenge than I have for pay.

Charlie died last night. But only after 48 hours of torture. Don’t feel sorry for Charlie, he deserved it. A brat predator. He’s on that brat registry. I know I don’t really care that much about what men do to little girls because they just grow up to be bitches anyway for the most part. But this guy tried to force fuck a friend of mine’s baby sister. When she told me the details, I decided to plot Charlie’s cock and ball mutilation and death.

Men Rarely Ever Meet a Sicker Bitch Than Me

He spent 48 hours tied up in my basement to my castration chair. First thing I did was put hat pins in his worthless dick and balls. I guess, I used about 100 hat pins on his disgusting dick and balls. After that, I shaved the skin off his cock and balls with a razor blade. Very fine skin shavings and then I poured a bottle of alcohol on him. Not sure I ever heard a man scream like that before. But he deserved it for all the pain he’s inflicted on little girls over the years.

I didn’t just mutilate his junk either. But I also carved off his nipples. I burned his flesh. And I shoved a broken beer bottles up his asshole shredding him from the inside out. Castration turned out to be the least of his concerns. I mutilated and mangled his body. And I caused so much intense pain that he almost died of a heart attack. But I didn’t want him dying of natural causes. So eventually, I sliced open his femoral artery and watched him bleed out. I did that last act of torture sex outside in the wild so that the animals would smell the blood and eat him alive.

I’m a sick bitch. You don’t want to cross me either because I just get sicker with age. Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with my friends. And don’t mess with any of my friends’ loved ones either. Or you might die even a more heinous death than Charlie.

Killer phone sex with my knife and your big fat dick

Killer phone sexKiller phone sex, there are no limits. I have plenty of dark desires. But what constantly swirls in my twisted mind is fresh prey. Each innocent face is a canvas awaiting the macabre masterpiece I’ll paint with blood and lust.

Little bald pussies so good you want to devour!

I have a collection of blades, but my favorite is my twelve-inch hunting knife. It’s such a rush to penetrate the little cunts with it. I love the sound of the blood gushing out of their little fuck holes.

Blood is a great lubricant; it’s so warm when you slide in, and the stickiness makes the friction so good. Your cock in a tight, bloody pussy will make great footage. We are going to have fun making Snuff movies.

I want the last thing these little bitches feel is getting double dicked by you and my knife. We can do anything we want to these little brats. Each stroke of the blade, each thrust of the dick, will be choreographed to maximize the shock value, the horror, the sheer ecstasy of their depraved escapades.