Tag: Knife play phone sex

Mutilation Phone Sex is a Good Tool to Knock Mean Girls Off Their Pedestals

mutilation phone sexMutilation phone sex is something I excel at. Nobody takes more time to thoroughly mutilate a victim like me. It’s because I get off on the torture. Although I do kill people quickly out of self-preservation, I prefer to torture for hours before I put some loser out of his or her misery. And I’m armed with all sorts of sharp instruments that make perfect accomplices for mutilating a body.

Last night, I just felt in the mood to fuck someone up. And in walked this vain drunk coed home for summer. She did not realize she entered a Goth bar. She started insulting my people and got herself kicked out. How does somebody that young become so mean. She started telling girls they looked like ghosts or a corpse pulled out of its grave. She said some mean things even for me. Although I might seem like a mean girl to my victims, I’m really a nice person. I would never insult somebody for their looks unless they deserved it.

Carving a Bitch Up Quickly Takes Her Down a Peg

I didn’t want to kill this girl. However, I wanted to explore some torture sex options with her. So, I followed her home. Normally, I might stalk my prey more, but I suspected that she lived alone in this little studio apartment in the bad part of town. Just some broke ass loser, girl who likes to insult others to make herself feel better about her pathetic existence. Most coeds stay with their parents during the summer break. But either this girl burned her bridges with her parents or she cut them off. Either way it didn’t matter. Nobody could save her now.

I broke into her apartment easily. Honestly, I think my kill shack in the middle of the wilderness smells better than her apartment. I used chloroform so that she wouldn’t scream for help. I needed to get the ball gag in her mouth and tie her up before she woke up. When she did, she found herself strapped to her coffee table, naked. Although she seemed awake, I don’t think she comprehended the severity of the situation. She still ran her mouth. Muffled but I could still hear, “you bitch,” through the ball gag.

Carving Up the Flesh on a Mean Girl Feels Right

I pulled out my knife and carved ugly on her forehead. It will leave a scar and serve as a constant reminder that actions come with consequences. I wore an executioner’s mask so she could not identify me and I never spoke. However, I don’t think she knows who I am. I blend in with the woodwork even as a goth girl in public spaces. And that’s because I know how to become invisible when I need to.

And I carved Cunt on one breast and whore on the other. Good luck explaining that to future lovers. This girl needed kicked off her pedestal. She felt too high and mighty for living in a studio apartment. Major attitude. However, I think I took a little bit of the fight out of her. Having a sick bitch carve into your flesh can feel exhausting. And I carved up just about every inch of her flesh. A one point, she begged me to kill her.

But I did not want this to turn into a snuff porn. This was revenge torture. Revenge for being a self-entitled little mean bitch. Now every time she looks into a mirror, she will see the scar in the letters UGLY. And she will be reminded of her ugly soul. Maybe that’ll force her to be nicer to others. I doubt she will show her face in public again. And she might go to the cops, but I don’t care. I feel safe because no doubt that little bitch made a lot of enemies over the years. Hopefully, I’ve slowed down her reign of hell.

Blasphemy Sex Makes My Cunt Wet

blasphemy sexBlasphemy sex makes my cunt wet. But I’m not religious at all. I don’t believe in God, and I don’t believe in the church. The funny thing is people ask me if I’m a Satanist all the time. But to believe in the devil you must believe in God because they’re opposites on the same spectrum. I can’t believe in one and not the other. So, I don’t believe in either. However, I do find it entertaining to desecrate a church. And kill some ultra-religious tradwife type.

That’s what I did this weekend. I found this trad wife influencer and did a little digging. I can find anybody’s IP address easily. That lets me find out all sorts of things. And I found out all sorts of things about her. Things completely against everything she preaches.

But I had no desire to expose her to her lemmings. I just wanted to kill her for her hypocrisy. Preaching to women that they need to be dependent on their husbands financially while she’s making over 1 million a year in endorsements and shit. Now I find her followers stupid as fuck if they can’t put two and two together. But if you cut the head off the snake, the rest die.

I Hate a Hypocritical Religious Cunt, So I Killed Them

I wanted to make a religious snuff porn with her. A so-called good Catholic wife. Now a dead Catholic wife. My little film turned out brutal and bloody, of course. I nailed her naked body to the cross above the baptismal tub in the main church area. And I did this for a reason. When I plunged my knife into her soft belly, I cut up towards her sternum. And I filled that tub with her blood and guts.

Before I gutted her, I let her know her sins. I called her out as a hypocrite. Told her I knew she didn’t make bread from scratch. She bought it wholesale. Told her I knew she didn’t sew her own clothes. And I pointed out that although she claims she makes nothing from being a tradwife influencer she made over $1 million last year alone making her one big fucking hypocrite. Her followers seem dumb. She amassed over 1 million followers. And I cannot find the time and energy to hunt them all down.

So, I killed their queen instead. And I watched her die slowly and painfully while bleeding out into that tub. Then I hopped in and bathed in her bloody entrails. I love bloody phone sex baths. They feel warm and provide the secret to looking young. At this rate, I might live forever. Drinking and bathing in the blood makes my skin baby soft. I’m not a satanist. But I am a sadistic bitch who hate hypocrisy and religion, and all the bullshit that comes with it.

Bloody Phone Sex Massacres Excite Me

bloody phone sexBloody phone sex seems perfect for a self-proclaimed gore whore. I grew up watching horror movies and gaining a strong affinity for bloody massacres. What can I say? I’m very visceral. I respond positively to the sight of blood. I love the feel of it. And I like the taste of it too.

Perhaps you could call me a vampire. I do love blood. Plus, I have the most fun after midnight. And summer is here so that means the bars become packed with college fuckers home for summer break. For the most part, I find the college boys and girls vapid and rabid. I don’t mean literally rabid.

But I think most people understand that college boys and girls are among the meanest folks around. Self-entitled mean girl behavior never gets rewarded. In fact, with me, it makes you a target. A target of my wrath. And I thought she might make a perfect snuff porn star.

As a Gore Whore I Love a Bloody Massacre

Last night I met a vapid and very rabid coed. I tried to blend in looking less Goth like and more normal. I sat at the bar, watching these bitches in action. And I took personal offense to this blonde prissy bitch who started body shaming other girls in the bar. She’s nothing more than a bully. And she needed to die.

So, I spiked her drink and acted like her Uber driver. I read rooms extremely well. So, I knew she did not come with anybody. That seemed part of the problem. She lacked a wolf pack. So, I acted like her Uber driver and took her to my kill shack in the woods. Although during Covid, I built an underground dungeon extension to my house with a tunnel that leads out into the middle of the woods. I like to use this shack in the woods when I’m going to make a bloody mess.

The drugs kicked in during the Uber ride, and she passed out in the back of my car. Woke up, stripped naked and tied to a wood table. This cabin my grandfather left me looks primitive like the cabin in the Evil Dead movies. When this girl woke up, she immediately started spewing her bullshit.

So, I told her she was about to meet her maker. I can’t tolerate bad behavior. Perhaps it’s safe to call me a vigilante. I just possess a very low threshold for what I will kill for. And body shaming some woman publicly in a bar earned her the right to die.

Some Folks Deserve to Die, So I Make it Happen

Normally, I would prolong the torture sex. That’s part of the fun for me not just the bloody mess that happens afterwards. But everything that leads up to that bloody massacre, I enjoy too. However, her shrill voice annoyed the fuck out of me. I put duct tape over her mouth, but I could still hear her. So, I ended up cutting the torture part short and plunging my knife right into her belly button. And I pulled that knife all the way up to her sternum and watched her die as I held her entrails in my hands. I like to cut a bitch because it creates a bloody mess.

I hosed off her DNA. But I know one of those medical black lights will catch the blood splatter. These floors may look clean, but they’re all saturated with the blood of my victims over the decades. But the only thing ever left behind is a little DNA. Because I dragged her body out to the woods and let nature serve as my accomplices. Some folks just deserve to die. And that bitch was one of them.

Torture Sex is the Only Kind of Sex I Enjoy

torture sexTorture sex might be the only kind I enjoy. Although I am a far cry from a virgin, I’m hardly a slut either. I’m very picky about my sexual partners. And I do have a lot of rules. Rules that most girls don’t. But men can never follow my rules. Either they don’t believe me or they don’t think I will follow through. But I always follow through.

Obviously, being a Goth girl and a sadistic bitch makes traditional dating sites useless to me. And I never plan to marry or start a family. But I like to fuck every now and then. And sometimes I get tired of sex toys. So, I look for a good match on the Dark Web. There I can find some chat rooms and meet like-minded men.

So, when Dan and I started talking, he seemed like an equally sick pervert. He understood my rules. Or at least he said he did. They never do. But I keep trying because at least I know I will enjoy the snuff sex experience when I kill my mate. Dan lives an hour away. So, we agreed to meet last night. We went to my Goth bar for some drinks and then back to my place to fuck.

I made my rules clear to him. But as soon as the clothes came off, he started doing all the things I told him not to do. He used pet names for me. But I don’t like to be called honey, sweetheart, baby or any of that sentimental crap.

I’m No Black Widow, Men. But I am a Praying Mantis

In fact, when any man calls me that I want to puke. And then I want to start stabbing and slicing his flesh. I also have a very clear no spooning rule. That’s the kind of shit for a girlfriend not a fuck buddy. Especially not a sadistic fuck buddy like me.

So, Dan not only lost his dick and balls, but he also lost his life. I hide a knife under my mattress for such encounters. Some people call me a black widow, but that doesn’t fit. I’m not marrying these guys and killing them for their money. I’m more like a praying mantis who bites the head off her male lovers after copulation. So, while riding his dick, I reached for my knife that I store under the mattress, and I sliced his balls off while his dick remained inside of me.

He bled all over my sheets. But I did not mind. I love blood. I’m a gore whore. So anytime I can enjoy bloody phone sex I go for it. I hopped off his dick when I sliced his balls off because of course, he went limp. Sort of like cutting the head off a snake. Now, of course I could’ve just left him a no ball wonder, but he deserved to die. He didn’t take me seriously. And he didn’t listen to my rules. I don’t take shit from anyone.

He learned the hard way. And he lost his balls and his life for not paying attention. Of course, I never expect them to pay attention because men think with their little heads. But I go along for the ride because it’s just another excuse at justifiable homicide.

Knife Play Phone Sex fantasies you want to take out on me!

 

Knife Play Phone Sex

Knife Play Phone Sex fantasies you want to take out on me.

Capture me in the dead of night and force me to do whatever you want by holding a knife to my throat.

Threaten me with slashing my neck open if I don’t open my legs and let you fuck me raw.

Force me to be your sex slave.

Hold a dagger to my pussy lips, and if I don’t suck your cock all the way down to the balls, then my lips get slashed off!

You better have knives ready to be used on my nipples,

Make me absolutely scared of you.

You’re an evil mother fucker who should take his anger and hatred out on me, I deserve it.

Make me a good little knife slut for you! 

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Sometimes, Accomplice Phone Sex Means I Can Exact Revenge for a Girl

Accomplice phone sexMost of the time, men hire me for accomplice phone sex. But I’ve been known to help a few women with boyfriend problems. However, this week, I enjoyed the pleasure of helping a teen girl. A girl in a bad situation much like I was many years ago with my own father. A few months ago, I met this young teen girl hooking on the streets. I was looking for a young teen prostitute for a client of mine and I found her.

This client would treat her well, so I didn’t feel guilty about procuring her services. But I will admit I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her either. I could already tell in her eyes she’s experienced more trauma than most people do in their lifetime. My client took very good care of her. And gave her enough money so that she could stay in a hotel for a month.

I stopped by her hotel last week with some food and cash to extend her stay. And we talked. She left an abusive dad just like I did. But unlike me, she has somebody in her corner. She has me. And her dad deserved castration phone sex more than any man.

So, I got enough details from her so that I could find her father on my own. Although from the way she described him, I knew I was way too old for him. So, I catfished him. He thought a young teen girl wanted to fuck him. Fat greasy fuck. I can’t imagine any woman wanting to fuck him. But I pushed my way into his house and drugged him.

Helping Young Girls with Daddy Problems Feels Cathartic to Me

He woke up, tied to his kitchen table, naked. And he saw me holding a butcher knife when he woke up. I told him I met his daughter recently and she told me all the nasty fucked up things he did to her. Then I told him I wanted to settle an old score. Men like my father and her father don’t change because their daughters grow up or run away. They just find more girls to prey on, unless you neuter them.

And since I’ve long harbored fantasies about castrating my father, the least I could do was castrate her father. She can take solace in the fact that he won’t prey on any more young women again. Hell, this bastard will never fuck again. And he’ll never even wake up with a pee hard on. I took his balls. And cock and ball torture sex never felt more cathartic. Of course, I imagined I was castrating my own father. This fucking slime bag predator should feel lucky I didn’t slit his throat because he did not deserve to live.

I left him tied up on his table bleeding. He’ll be able to get out of the ties eventually. But not quickly enough to find me. And I doubt he’ll go to the police. Because if he does, his daughter will tell the police everything he did to her. Sometimes castration seems like a fitting punishment for a sexual predator. It felt good to be on the right side of the accomplice spectrum this time. But I’ll still help men fuck young girls. However, if any young girl comes to me with a man problem, I will help her for free. Money is not everything.

Knife Play Phone Sex Gets Me Off

That’s right baby, let me see how far you can go! If you want to drill me with that big huge knife of yours then you better make sure you succeed at your attempt! Give me everything you got. I’m your fucking slave. Make me you’re little bloody bitch!  Make me get down on my fucking knees and take everything you’ve got! I’m your bloody little whore. Make me be you’re little bitch! Give me exactly what I want out of you, you sick fuck! You want to see me at my worse. Then make sure you punish me with all of your filthy tools so I can see the blood dripping down the side of my neck.  Uhhh yea you sick fucker! Pound me until I cant take anymore and treat me like a dirty piece of trach when your done. Castrate me to pieces. You’re so fucking filthy you nasty fucker! That’s my type of fucking bloody shit!Knife Play Phone Sex

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.

Bloody Phone Sex Because I am a Gore Whore

bloody phone sexAs a horror movie junkie, I’m a fan of bloody phone sex. I like to make a mess. For me, I’m living my best life when I turn a simple murder into a gorefest. A guy once called me a gore whore, and I do believe that’s true. I’m very visual. And at the end of a kill, I seem most proud of myself when I’ve dismembered a victim, cut off his dick or sexually mutilated her junk and left nothing but blood, internal organs and sinew in my wake.

I’m a fan of over kill because overkill throws suspicion off me. Makes cops look closer to home for a personal motive. Overkill suggests familiarity not a random encounter. And that’s because overkill suggests rage. And normally folks do not get that sort of rage from a stranger.

When I murder somebody, I can control my rage. I don’t really feel rage for them. It’s more that I just like violence. And I like blood and guts. It’s not personal. The way I see it, I get rid of some asshole or bitch who the world will never really miss, and I get my blood and guts fix.

As a Gore Whore I Turn a Crime Scene into a Blood Fest

Over the weekend I killed a couple. A husband and wife who steal from the elderly to fund their drug habit. I got wind of them before the cops ever did. That’s because I listen to the chatter in chat rooms on the dark net and to people talking in public spaces. I did my research and quickly uncovered the couple. Sometimes I must do police work for the police.

Would the world miss two tweakers? I didn’t think so. So, I broke into their house on Saturday night. And I put them out of everybody’s misery. They start with robbing people for their addiction. But it will make them kill somebody someday. I verified that this couple was behind a slew of home invasions over the past year. I tied them to at least a dozen home invasions where elderly people lost their life savings.

Overkill Throws Suspicion Off Me

People who prey on the elderly for financial gain deserve death. And they deserve a very messy painful death. A trailer park couple with drug paraphernalia everywhere, I think the cops would assume this was a drug deal gone bad. I completely massacred the couple. Sexual mutilation. Excessive stab wounds and dismemberment. It would point to one of the cartels. But I don’t even think the cartels would worry about two tweakers.

But the amount of overkill I demonstrated in their brutal deaths will point to a more personal motive. I even used a chainsaw to take off their legs and arms. But I did that while they still breathed so they would feel it. And so, it would create a bloody massacre. Bodies don’t bleed the same if you dismember and cut them postmortem.

Normally I would prefer the torture sex to last all night if not even for days. However, this couple did live in a trailer park with neighbors so I couldn’t take all the time I wanted. But I did make it a gorefest for the time I did spend with them. And they felt it. They suffered. And they died. Actions have consequences. Even if the police don’t put two and two together, there might be some sadistic bitch like me who does. And what I do to somebody seems far more terrifying than prison.

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.