Tag: killer phone sex

Torture phone sex Fun

torture phonesex angieI 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. torture phonesex torture

Accomplice phone sex

Accomplice phone sex layla (5)

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.

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.

The sound of my switchblade

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

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.

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

 

 

Opportunity

Magenta1

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… 

In Fear

accomplice phone sex layla (4)

I thought we were simply here to have a good time. My husband never took me anywhere so when he offered to take me to a water park I immediately agreed. I wanted to spend time together like we used to but this day was soon spoiled by his horrible fucking attitude and hair trigger temper. It all happened in the “Lazy River” when we saw a young boy floating past us looking for his mother. I could see all over his face how terrified he must be. Being so young and vulnerable out in the open by his self must be a mortifying experience. My heart went out to the boy! My husband was infuriated at the thought of me giving attention to something other than him. He crept up behind the boy’s floatie and ripped him off of it. I tried to look away as he pushed and held the pre-pubescent little boy under water. My husband had this sick look in his eyes like got whenever he beat me. That’s when I knew he was going to kill the youngin. I begged him to stop but according to that sociopath, “I gotta hear him say it. Let this little fucker beg for his life.” Before he could finish his sentence the water went still. I grabbed the boy trying to blow any air I had back into his little lungs. As my husband walked away I held the body of somebody’s lifeless little boy. I knew I had to move quick before somebody came and saw me holding this dead boy. I had no choice but to free him from my bosom and watch the weight of rigamortis bring him to the bottom of the wave pool. He died fearing for his life and I couldn’t even pity him. Mainly because I knew for certain now that when it was my time, that exactly how I will meet my death. In fear.

Approaching Storm

taboo phone sex keisha (1)

Urban legend has it she comes when you are sleeping. You don’t suspect it but while you’re cozy and snug in your bed you’re awaiting your death. The one catch is, she comes when she feels like it. This once loophole makes people walk on egg shells hoping she doesn’t see something in you that pisses her off. Legend has it her father was the one who turned her into this sick torture freak. When her daddy pierced her nipples instead of crying and begging for mercy, she begged for more. When he branded her, instead of trying to run, she became his whore. Supposedly, he taught her by example on how to be cruel and heartless. Now, she is a pro on how to drag out the hurt and cum from any type of pain. I never believed in urban legends but this one sends chills up my spine. Being a black pain slut I’d love to see what Storm had in store for me. Pain is always painful but it always makes my pussy drip too.  Looking back on your past couple weeks, should you be preparing for the approaching Storm?

taboo phone sex storm

Killer Phone Sex with Blair: The Legend of the Hook Man

taboo phone sex mutiliation bloody

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….killer phone sex torture murder

Blood Whore Seeks Cunt to Fuck

Accomplice phone sex

People often ask me if I get horny; and, yes, I fucking do. But, it’s especially difficult to find lovers that meet my standards. But, someone has recently caught my attention: her name is Natasha. She’s got a foul mouth and a smart-ass attitude; she actually reminds me a little of myself. But, how to snare her for my own pleasure? Luckily, the opportunity presented itself after a little bit of stalking. I noticed that she had a contentious relationship with the waitress of a diner that she frequented in the evening; and, this time, she was alone. I wondered what exactly she had planned; but, I laughed at myself…of course, she was up to something devious. She was watching the waitress with as much interest as I was gauging her reactions; her long luscious limbs were only overshadowed by those plump lips and dark eyes. I loved the shape of her thighs, and I could easily imagine them locked around my neck.

I slipped, maybe it was on purpose; but, I stared at her for too long without looking away and she caught me. She analyzed me from my black leather boots to my porcelain cheekbones several times; and, when our eyes met, she had a smile on those lovely lips of hers. If the darkness wasn’t so deep within her or she wasn’t so damn perfect, I know that I would have killed her. But, no, I wanted to enjoy her and maybe even wreck havoc with her. My cunt ached as I thought about dismembering that waitress for her and then her thanking me with passionate kisses. As my pussy quivered, she approached me. She was silent, but we didn’t need words; when she did open her mouth, she said, “What do you think about her?” A nod to the waitress only confirmed everything that I already thought. I told her that the diner would be closing soon and she would leave early, leaving the cleaning to the boy in the back. She smiled; now, she knew that I was privy to the routines in the diner, too.

Accomplice sex Natasha
We struck up a conversation with the waitress, which was easy enough; and, then, Natasha asked her if she’d like to smoke some rock. Natasha flashed the drugs in a baggy that was in her pocket. The waitress’s habit had slipped my attention, but not Natasha’s; I was beginning to admire her for more than her looks and smart mouth. Natasha flashed an evil grin at me as we left and went to a nearby empty warehouse. We used twine to bind the waitress and then took turns slicing her; we fed off of each other’s lust for blood. While I was admiring our cuts and the indentions of the twine that had almost cut off her wrist,

Natasha pushed her warm body next to mine. “You want my pussy, don’t you, you blood whore?” She didn’t need an answer because I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her, her tongue soft and as wet as I imagined both of our pussies were. We tore off each other’s clothes and tossed them away from the bloody scene and then rolled in the dumb cunt’s blood as we fucked each other senseless. Her pussy juices coated my fingers and lips and mixed with my own; the stench of blood and our cum mingled in the air and fueled our desire. I pumped her pussy, wanting her smell to stay on my fingers all day long and wanting to hurt her…just a little. Then, we both struggled to stand, our bodies weary from sex and the killing; I watched her ass as she walked away with extra gusto because she knew I was watching. I licked my knuckles and knew that I wouldn’t mind seeing that little vixen again.

Accomplice phone sex waitress

Sexual Humiliation

torture phonesex karmaI heard about a law suit that was filed by the Iraqis against the British for the use of Sexual Intimidation Interrogation techniques. Of course the word Sexual peeked my interest immediately. The more I listened and learned about this technique the more I knew I had to try it and the more I knew I had to put my evil fucking twist on it and make it more wicked and sadistic and demented then anyone could ever imagine. Oh my mind was racing and the thoughts were coming a mile a minute. Who did I want information out of? No one really, but who could I get information from that might be useful to me in some way shape or form? And who could I really mess up in the head using this type of interrogation method? One thing is for sure a prude would be the one to be most fucked up by this and would be the one that I could use to take this to a whole new level. Then it hit me, that rich old widow on the dead end road. Everyone knows she is an old prude that has a fortune stashed in that mansion of hers. I could use this method of interrogation to find out where the money is stashed. Of course I couldn’t leave her alive to tell the tale, which is just the icing on the cake. What would fuck her up sexually? Forced bisexuality, yes that would be a start. Bugs all over her body, oh yes that would work. Perhaps a four legged friend and some ass fucking would take her over the edge. Tomorrow night I strike and put my plan in motion. I am sure I can think of so much more between now and then.