Tag: Mutilation phone sex

Your Evil Accomplice is Just a Key Stroke Away

fantasy phone sex goth evilWhen the zombie apocalypse hits, let’s face it, we are still going to have certain needs. In fact, I do believe our killer instincts will become even more prominent, more primordial because we will be fighting for survival. Hunting will no longer be just for sport, but for survival also. We might be divided geographically, but we can still talk via the cyber text sessions we offer. So much easier to cyber text sometimes, like when hunting zombies or killing the assholes and the weak  who jeopardize our survival.  The apocalypse is close, and I am going to need accomplices. People who share my passion for survival, my passion for killing. Think of how much fun we can have together sharing the details of our kills? Sharing not only how many zombies we slaughtered, but the joy we took in eradicating the world of useless, dangerous people.  Sharing the gory details of what we did to survive, like killing a pretty stupid whore to feed on her flesh. In the apocalypse you are either the butcher or the cattle. We are the butcher.

Things will be desperate, resources scarce,  trust will be hard, but crucial if we want to win the war against the undead. We can help each other. I can share my killing secrets, you can share yours. Thanks to our cyber text sessions,  we can stay connected regardless of distance, regardless of the situation. We can hunt together. Survive together. Kill together. All thanks to the ability to cyber text one another. So, even if the situation is not as drastic as the zombie apocalypse, remember we can always stay connected. For the same price of a phone call, you can message me your darkest, sickest most depraved desires.  Your wicked accomplice is just a key stroke away.

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Let My Flesh Nourish You

cannibalism phone sex torture subbyMost women masturbate thinking about being eaten. But I bet they don’t get off thinking about being eaten how I think about it. I could care less about having my cunt eaten out or pussy worshiped. I want to literally be eaten. I want a master with a particular diet; one that requires human flesh to survive. I want to nourish my master and maybe his cruel accomplice. Look at me. I am tall, with big beautiful breasts and some meat on my bones. You could sustain yourself on my flesh for quite awhile.I bet I am delectable. 

cannibalism phone sex snuff blondeI want you to hunt me like a wild prey. Abduct me. Keep me locked up while you force feed me like a pig to fatten me up for slaughter. Then I want you to tenderize my meat, season and butter my skin. Shove and apple in my mouth and slow roast me over a fire. I wanna feel the flames engulfing me; I wanna feel my skin charring, falling off my flesh while I am slowly cooked to death for your sustenance, your survival. I wanna die slowly, painfully for your pleasure, your amusement. I want you to get off on my screams, my pain, my pleading for survival.

You know I look tasty. You know I would be scrumptious.  I bet we could cook up all sorts of yummy scenarios together. Let me feed you and your family.

 

Psycho Movie Serial Killer Wannabe

knife play phone sex killer snuffLast night I went to a midnight showing of the original Halloween. It’s a classic. One of my favorite films. Michael Myers is my hero. Gets to kill annoying people with a big ass knife, always allude capture, some how never get killed. I often fancy myself a psycho movie serial killer like Michael, Jason, Freddy, Chucky or Pinhead.  Brutal, evil, cold, invincible. A killing machine who does not worry about that silly thing called guilt. A true sociopath.

There were these two blonde bimbos in front of me that were texting and talking through the movie. I find that annoying. When I asked them politely to shut the fuck up and watch the movie, they got rude with me. I channeled my inner psycho movie serial killer, followed them out when the movie was over. I hide in the shadows,  stalked them, watched them, followed them home. Stupid bitches left a window open. Of course I took that as an invitation. I found them laying in bed together.  They looked like they passed out. Clothes and makeup still on. This was too easy. But sometimes a quick easy kill like one of my heroes would do, is just good for the soul. I plunged my knife into the heart of bimbo #1 and her eyes opened wide, she took a big gasp, then slumped back down on the bed in a bloody pool. Bimbo #2  never even woke up. Her BFF is being snuffed out right next to her, and her drunk ass is snoring. I slit her worthless throat.

I went over to a chair in the corner, licked the blood of my knife, rubbed the blood on me into my pussy as I masturbated. Then I went home, left with an unquenchable desire to kill again. Yes there was lots of blood, which makes me hot. But they were drunk, oblivious to dying. I get off on the fear, the tears, even the screams and resistance. Where is the challenge if they don’t even realize they are being hunted, stalked and killed?  I’m like a vampire, needing to feed.  Would you like to be my accomplice? We can find some unsuspecting bitch, hunt her like an animal, kidnap her and torture her for hours, maybe even days, until we decide we are finished with her.  Sometimes I feel sorry for  my psycho movie serial killers because they play alone.

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Toothless

 

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My eyes flicker open, all I can see is the bright light above me. 

My head is pounding and my right eye is swollen. 

I try to sit up but I realize I am strapped down. 

I’m laying on some thing cold and smooth.

I tap my nails on it to try and make a sound but pain shot through my fingers. 

That is when I start to remember where I am.

My finger nails are gone, just bloody fingers now.

Someone leans over my face, but I can not see their face. 

All I can see is the out line of their body.. They dim down the bright light as they lean in closer.

I know those eyes.. 

It’s almost as if the person is smiling under their face mask. 

They are dressed as a scrubbed up surgeon. 

I go to move my lips and ask them what they want. 

But my mouth is pride open. 

My mouth is so dry. 

My tongue is stuck to gums. 

I try to move it to my teeth… 

I have no teeth.. 

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WHAT HAPPENED?!

Then I started to hear screaming.

I start to panic and I try to move.. That is when the table starts to move…

Its like I am in a standing position but I’m still strapped to the table.. 

Then I see the tv..

Its me screaming as that person is ripping out each tooth one by one…

I pass out from pain.. All I could do was just watch this happen to me. 

I feel something warm dripping off my toes. I look down.. I am covered in blood…

Who’s blood is this?! WHO’S BLOOD?!!!!!!!!!

 

 

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A Sadist in Sheep’s Clothing

torture phone sex mommy bloodyEvery now and then I encounter a very sadistic man. A man who truly believes women are worthless whores on earth only for their pleasure. And that no matter what they do to a woman, it is justified because we are all just whiny, bitchy, cunts who do not deserve to live. I met such a man recently. On the outside, seemed like any other hipster. Owned a little coffee shop I went to daily, liked music, college educated, easy to talk to. That is how he trapped me. I felt safe with him. Felt like he really wanted to just be my friend. I get lonely. My husband is long gone, and my son travels a lot with his job. So when David invited me to his place for dinner, I accepted, totally clueless about what was in store for me.

He slipped some sort of roofie in my drink. I woke up bound and gagged in his basement on his work out bench. He was standing over me with an evil smile. I saw on the wall a plethora of torture devices. Now I am rather accustomed to extreme bondage devices, but what I saw looked more like the tools of a serial killer. Knifes, saws, an ice pick, dental and surgical tools, a flame thrower, drills, hammers… All deadly and painful instruments. He grabbed a pair of pliers and held my nose tightly, forcing my mouth open and for no reason other than his sick pleasure, pulled one of my teeth out from the root. He was a true sadist. The pain was excruciating. I could taste the blood. He said, “Now you aren’t so pretty. All pretty women are whores.” I was crying and shaking. He got tired of hearing me and shoved a ball gag in my mouth which made me choke on my own blood.bloody phone sex sadistic torture

The next tool of pain he brought out was a scalpel.  He began making small cuts all over my torso like some Dr. Demento. He sliced my breasts up, made a trail of cuts down my stomach. He then dripped hot wax into my wounds. The wax slowed the bleeding, but the pain was awful. He laughed at my tears. What he pulled out next horrified me. He had a torch flame like welders use.  He told me there was nothing more intoxicating than the smell of burnt flesh and a whore’s tears. He fired it up and aimed it straight for my stomach. He didn’t leave it on long enough to set my whole body on fire, but he did take a layer or two of skin off my belly.  It hurt so much I lost consciousness.

I woke up in my car, back in my clothes. I thought maybe it was just some horrifying dream, but then I checked myself in the rear view mirror. I was missing a tooth. The bloody roots still hanging from where the tooth had been. The pain really hit me. I lifted up my shirt, revealing a charred stomach.  He had cauterized my wounds so I was not bleeding, but it was horrible looking, very raw,  and even worse smelling. I wanted to wretch. I searched for my keys, trying to figure out if I could even drive. I found a note in my purse that said “Tell anyone what happened Blair, and that pretty little face you love so much gets burned.”

There are sadists all around us. Men who take extreme pleasure in hurting and degrading women. You would think by now, I would be better at recognizing them. Are you a sadist in sheep’s clothing? DO you harbor dark desires like David?

 

Beat Me, Bleed Me, Torture Me, Today, Tomorrow, Forever…

bloody phone sex torture submissiveThis new Master I knew was unusual, not like the others.  I only saw him at night. He was pale. Skin was cold. He was sensitive to light. He was an amazing lover. Strong as an ox. Keen senses. Could heal my wounds he inflicted quickly and quite miraculously. He was extremely into blood play too. I should have known. I have seen enough horror films. But I had trouble rectifying reality from fantasy. That was until the night my Master made me his. Really made me his.

It was a dark and dreary night. I was tied to a wooden table spread eagle. Master had made over a 100 small but deep cuts on my body; on my worthless flesh. Blood was covering my body. Master was hard at the scent and sight of my blood. He would get off not so much on my pain like other masters, but on my blood. He would lick it off my body and never seemed to get enough of my sweet tasting crimson juice. If I got too weak from the bloodletting, he would cut his wrist and make me drink up. It somehow made me stronger, healed me.

This particular bloodletting, Master hit an artery on my neck by mistake. Blood was spurting out everywhere. I was choking on my own blood. I knew I was going to die. Then Master bit me, hard. I felt a chunk of my flesh separate from my neck. I began convulsing, twitching, dying. But then I awakened, almost like new. Master released me. I immediately looked at myself in the mirror, but I had no reflection. My skin was pale and cold. I was on sensory overload. I could hear bugs in the wall, birds outside, toilets flushing. And I was ravenous. So hungry. It scared me. I looked at Master and I knew. I just knew what he was, what I now was.

I have an unquenchable desire for blood now. I’m in need of accomplices to bring me something to feed on, preferably young and tender. In my new found state, I can be beaten unrecognizable, tortured, bled, mutilated, burned; anything brutal I can handle because I have the power to heal myself. So please, hurt me, destroy me, snuff me out.  I assure you I won’t stay dead long. I will heal myself for you to hurt, destroy and snuff out another day.

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Knife Play Phone Sex with Venus: Random Acts of Violence

knife play phone sex blood gothIt’s Halloween time. My favorite. Normally, I am not a knife wielding psychopath unless provoked. If I am gonna cut a bitch or stab a tool, they have usually deserved it. But something about Halloween brings out my inner Michael Myers.  You know, stone cold killer, no rhyme or reason to his victims. Last weekend, I was walking around my neighborhood and I just felt homicidal. Felt compelled to kill. To just kill for fun. So I started creeping around in backyards looking for blood to spill, flesh to tear.

Then I saw them, a family of four on their back porch carving pumpkins. They looked idyllic, almost like out of some Good Parenting magazine or something. That made me hate them. Made me want them snuffed out, even the little ones. I walked right up on their porch too. Showed them my knife collection and asked if I could help carve pumpkins. They looked a little taken a back, but still they invited me in. A strange woman, with knifes, trespassing in their back yard. Yeah they deserved to not live.knife play phone sex  evil snuff

I played the game with them for awhile to give them a false sense of security, then the carnage and mayhem began. I tied them all up to chairs and put them face to face. Mommy son, daddy daughter. I like to watch the fear in their eyes. I like to see the “why us” look in their faces. Sometimes there is no why. Just opportunity. Like today. And maybe if they had been a bit smarter they could have lived.

I like to play games with my prey. I told Daddy if he wanted his sweet innocent offspring to survive he was gonna have to prove his love.  I told him to kiss her, a big romantic one too. And he did. He hesitated and got a knife in his thigh, but then he did. I told him I could spare her life if he fucked his baby girl. I told Mommy the same thing about her son. You would think they would do anything to spare their wee one’s lives. Guess love does have some bounds. Sad really. If my life depended on it, If the life of a loved one depended on it, I would saw off my arm.  And Mommy and Daddy won’t have sex with their offspring. Would you do anything I said if your loved one’s lives depended on it?

knife play phone sex evil killI snuffed them all out right there on their porch. Total blood bath. I went into a frenzy with my knives. Slaughtered the innocent lambs first so I could enjoy watching their parents cry and plead. I enjoyed telling them too that their blood was on their hands. They could have prevented the slaughter. My knives covered in blood, I let mommy and daddy have a taste. Sick, I know, but fun too. They didn’t really love their brats or they would have done whatever I asked without hesitation.  The pumpkins they were carving now covered in their blood too.

knife play phone sex bloody sadisticThe real fun was slaughtering mommy and daddy. Random senseless acts of violence make me feel good. A knife in an artery with a slow bleed out while looking into your partner’s eyes as you die, pretty darn entertaining. Oh the shit they say to each other. The confessions they make. Guess they wanna die with a clean conscious or some silly shit. But I sat there, watching them make  their dying confessions, profess their love yada yada yada. Blood spurting everywhere. Turned me on actually. Blood spraying me like that is an aphrodisiac. I need an accomplice. Someone I can trust. Be so much more fun to share both my random and not so random acts of violence with a partner who gets off on the blood, the violence, the torture too. Is that you?

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Evil Bedtime Stories for Worthless Whores

Sadistic phone sex bondage milfWhen I was a little girl, my Daddy would read me bedtime stories while I was tied to the bed. And not your typical bed time stories one tells a wee lass. These were more like horror stories designed to scare the crap out of me and keep me pure. I remember all his wicked bed time stories, but one in particular stands out. It was about these evil little dolls that lived under my bed. They could only be seen at night. They only came out to torture bad little girls who touched themselves or had sex or were disobedient to their parents.  They had sharp teeth and sharp spikes and would tear the flesh off of bad little girls. They would even penetrate naughty girls’ pussies and asses ruining them for future enjoyment because if a girl did not know how to use her privates properly she should not have them at all. A girl’s special spots were for her daddy’s enjoyment, not her own and certainly no other man.

One night, I woke up screaming in pain. I had masturbated in the shower that day. The evil little torture dolls must have know what I had done.  I felt a blindfold go over my eyes and a sharp instrument inserted in my pussy and asshole. Hurt so bad. I screamed for my Daddy but he never came to save me. When the sun rose, I could see I was covered in blood. My daddy came in and said he knew the creatures visited me last night because I was a filthy dirty whore. He could not save me because I was not worth saving. A knife or some other sort of razor sharp object had fucked my cunt and ass, shredding both. Leaving them a bloody, tortured mess. I was in so much pain, I could not go to school the next morning. I could barely walk. There would be many more nights those evil creatures woke me up in the middle of the night to teach me a hard lesson about being impure. First time I tried to masturbate, first time I got my period, first time I kissed a boy, first time I told my Daddy I did not want to suck his dick… all marked by a visit from the torture creatures who would mutilate my female parts.

As I got older, I realized it was daddy sneaking in my room at night to torture his slutty baby girl. He always knew when I was bad. He took sadistic pleasure in hurting me; ruining me for other men. My body belonged to him and no one else. Daddy believed I was a worthless whore who did not deserve a pretty ass or pussy or tits. What do you think?

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Would You Rather Be Eaten Alive or Eat Someone Alive?

cannibalism phone sex mommey tortureThe last thing I remember was hiking in the woods. It was a lovely day. The sun was shining, the leaves were all sorts of pretty colors and I was enjoying quality time with myself. I woke up dazed, confused and starving. But I was not alone. There was a young couple with me, bound and gagged. I did not know where I was or how I got there. It appeared to be some sort of cabin in the woods. I tried to scope out the situation, figure out what kind of trouble exactly I was in. I never could have imagined the trouble I was in. A man with a mask came out of the darkness. He grabbed me by the hair and forced me to look at the couple tied up on the floor. He said with a sinister tone, “Would you rather be eaten alive or eat some one alive?” What kind of sadistic game was he playing? I looked at him dumbfounded, and simply said “I don’t understand.” He explained to me this was a simple task. A simple game of would you rather. But, it was a game I had to play if I had any hope of surviving. He turned the timer on,  put a gun to my head and  gave me 60 seconds to make my decision.

In a moment of panic I screamed out, “Eat some one alive.” Surely this was a hoax, some sort of prank. He dragged me over to the couple. Made me decide if I wanted female or male flesh. The boy looked like Justin Beiber. I hate Just Beiber, so I screamed out male flesh. I then watched him prepare my live meal. Human sushi he called it. He seasoned the flesh, even tenderized it for me  and buttered the skin. I thought he was going to cook this boy alive, but no. I had to eat him, while still breathing, still looking at me, pleading me to stop, begging me for mercy. This was difficult , but my survival was on the line. I think when we are all pushed, we will do drastic things to stay alive. Even eat an innocent person.

My evil dinner host brought me an array of deadly kitchen cutlery and a big plastic bib to catch the blood, the flesh. This was really happening. I really had to do this. The young guy was shaking, tears running out his eyes. I tried to figure out where to begin. I took a knife and cut off his balls. People eat sheep balls, I could eat human testicles. I heard him scream in pain and watched him horrified as I swallowed his sinewy flesh. It did not taste like chicken. It tasted awful, but I chewed it up good and swallowed, reminding myself that this was just a game. I was forced to keep eating, so I tried my best to cut off sections of flesh that enable him to still survive.  I cut off and ate a nose (oddly crunchy),  ears, his penis, a few fingers, a few toes….I was stuffed and nauseated, but being forced to eat more flesh. He was bloody and in pain, likely dying. Perhaps I was doing him a disservice by trying to keep him alive. It seemed as if I was going to have to eat him until he died, or until I died.

I looked at him; his eyes told me it was okay. He had given up. I took a big knife, stabbed it in his chest, pulled out his beating heart and ate it until it was no longer beating.  I can’t believe I ate another person while they were alive. But I guess I would rather live than die. I had no choice. At least that is what I am telling myself to sleep at night….

Evil Phone Sex with Cassandra: House of Horrors

evil phone sex big tits subbyMaster is very fond of scaring me. He claims I constantly need broken in; calls me his stubborn Philly. Last week he had me kidnapped by a bunch of frat boys. He paid them some beer money and they snatched me right out of the mall and took me to this house of horrors. They left there and told me to find my own way home. There was no electricity, no heat, nothing. The house was so old too. Like I could fall though a floor at any moment. I was afraid I would hurt myself. That was not what I should have been afraid of however.

As I felt my way around every  corner, I encountered a horrific find that had my heart racing. My Master put me in a nightmare. He created a house of horrors just for me filled with everything that terrifies me the most. There was a room filled with slimy slithering  snakes. I had to crawl on the floor feeling them run  all over me. I peed my panties. Another room had spiders. Big hairy fucking spiders. I squished some with my fingers. So gross. I hate creepy crawly things. Master knows this. I was sure he was filming this and getting off somehow.

I had my cell phone with me, and although I could not get a signal to call for help, my flashlight app worked. I was trying to conserve the power, but I was getting more and more scared. The next room had something hanging from the ceiling, like punching bags that I had to navigate through. When I got something slimy on me I used the flashlight to see what exactly I was pushing my way through. Big mistake. It was like I was in a slaughter house. Dead pigs and cows everywhere. Gutted and bloody. The stench was nauseating. Master loves  playing survival games with me. Testing my will to live.

I have survived worse than a house of horror. I have been buried alive, submerged in water, forced to kill… I can get through a creepy house.  Suddenly, the floor fell out from underneath me. I was falling and landed in something wet and sticky. I fell hard too. I knew that smell, that taste. I was in blood. A vat of blood. No clue what kind of blood, didn’t want to know. I felt like Carrie at the prom. My long blonde hair was covered in blood. I fell in a tub. I crawled out and at least now I knew I was on the next level of the house. I crawled on the floor when pain hit. I was now crawling on broken glass. It hurt like hell. But I went as quick as I could. I was covered in blood, my own and someone or something else’s too.

I crawled right into a person, a live person. I thought it was my Master, but when I used the flashlight I saw it was something grotesque. A freak of some sort. It picked me up by the throat and throttled me. I was gasping for air, kicking frantically to free myself. Then the freak through me hard against a wall. I hit the wall, then fell through another floor. My Master and his friends were there waiting for me, laughing. I was  covered in blood, bleeding, banged up and they were laughing. My pain amused them. Does my pain amuse you?

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