Tag: Mutilation phone sex

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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Mutilation Phone Sex with Blair: Broomstick Anal GangBang

mutilation phone sex rough analFor Halloween, I am always a sexy witch. I got the pointy hat, broomstick and sexy witch’s outfit. My son and I were going to a party at a  friend of his house, so I wanted to look extra hot. The party was fun; lots of cute boys and wicked party favors. I was doing lines of coke all night and slinging back the Jager bombs. After a while, I became cognizant, even in my doped up stupor, that I was the only female left. I actually thought that was a good thing. I believed I was going to get gangbanged. I got gangbanged all right, but not by cocks.

My son dragged me down to the basement of his friend’s house and tied me up, bent me over with my ass totally exposed. I still thought I was going to get cock. I could see the guys lining up, but none had their cocks out. They each were holding a broom stick, with my son holding the one I brought to the party. I was going to be sodomized by broom handles. One by one they approached me and shoved a broom handle up my ass repeatedly. No lube or nothing. Just rough anal torture. I was crying. I could feel blood running out my ass. I think my insides were even getting stirred up. The pain was excruciating. My ass was being mutilated by broomsticks. I was crying, begging for them to stop, but they only listened to my son, my Master who was telling them to go harder, deeper and faster. My ass would never be the same again.

After hours of anal torture, it was my son’s turn. He said he saved the best for last. He kissed my mouth then rammed my broomstick up my ass so hard I puked from the pain. He shoved it in and out for a good 20 minutes. When he pulled out the broom handle from my ass, it was covered in blood and shit. He made me suck it clean.  I had to suck my bloody, shitty broom stick in front of all his friends who had participated in my anal violation.

When I had spit shined that broomstick, my son released me. He made me bend over and look in a mirror to see the damage to my ass. I had a complete rectal prolapse.  My asshole looked like a rose. It was bright red, and inside out. I have had rough anal before, even two cocks in my ass at a time, and been fisted, but nothing hurt more than being sodomized by broomsticks. I had to crawl upstairs, bleeding, nauseated , humiliated and in pain. My son and his friends just laughed.

When I asked if I could go home and tend to my wounded ass, my son slapped me, and said, “Silly mommy. That was just foreplay. The night is still young.”

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Taboo Phone Sex with Mommy Blair: Anal Torture

taboo phone sex mommy snuffMy son loves rough anal with me. Using my ass for his deviant desires gives him so much pleasure. He even enjoys pimping my ass out. He forces me to insert all sorts of things in my ass to prime myself for anal torture. Big dildos, butt plugs, wine bottles, beer cans, squash, guns, the heels of shoes, fists, aerosol cans, remotes, flashlights, curling iron,  multiple cocks, speculums….. He doesn’t care if my  sphincter is torn. In fact he prefers that my ass tear and bleed. He equates it with brushing my teeth. He claims our mouths bleed and get tiny tears every time we brush so I shouldn’t bitch.

Today he rented my ass out  to his friend. First, I had to give a show on top of the bar. My job was to fuck anything and everything I could find until my ass was gaping open. I started with a really huge suction cup dildo and worked my way up to a bottle of Maker’s Mark. It has a big square end and that is what went in first. I was screaming in pain, bleeding too. I am not allowed to use any lubrication. It has to hurt because my pain is a man’s pleasure.

My son’s friend was so turned on he did bourbon shots from my ass. He didn’t care that I was bleeding and in pain. I had to keep that bottle inside my ass until my son and  him drank all the bourbon. Then they yanked it out and made me lick my ass off that bottle. I had to clean it good. So humiliating. But I am a worthless wore. My asshole was inside out, gaping and my son’s friend rammed his cock deep inside me. Said he was being a good Samaritan and putting my ass back together for me. He fucked my tattered sphincter back together.  After he came inside me, he poured a bottle of booze in my gaping hole. He said it was a makeshift enema to clean up my dirty ass. It burned like hell and got me oddly drunk. Really drunk. So drunk I puked and passed out. I guess the tears in my ass let the alcohol get absorbed in my skin.

I woke up on the bar, empty bottles covered in blood everywhere. Good thing I passed out. My ass will never be the same.

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Fucking Monsters

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At some point in your life you were afraid of monsters, or still are.. 

I have a new fear..

He is a monster.

With the new viruses going around master made me get sick. 

He works in the morgue at the hospital in town, which means he has access to all the viruses that normally kill people. 

What ever he gave me made me sick, very sick. 

The combination of viruses has turned my body into a living corps.

I can’t stop him from moving me, I can not squirm away from his touch.

I can’t move but  I can feel every ounce of pain…

He can bend and mold my body to anything he wants as he fucks me.

Tonight he had his spiked cock sleeve on and he slammed it into my ass

I could feel each spike digging into my asshole and ripping it apart as he pushed back and forth into my body..

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I can’t scream..

I can’t even cry..

What has he done to me…

What is he doing to me?

Finally he pulled his bloody cock out and come around to my face and sticks his bloody cock that has pieces of my skin hanging off of it into my mouth. 

I suddenly get this urge for more..

More blood.

More flesh. 

I start to bite down, but I can’t feel my jaw close.. 

What ever is happening to my body I have turned into a monster just like him… but I have a thirst for blood now… 

Knife Play Phone Sex with Venus: How Do You Wanna Be Butchered?

knife play phone sex goth bloodyOctober is my favorite month. Why? Because freaks like me blend in with the natives. During the month of horror and terror, knife wielding psychotics like me are actually celebrated. Knives, hooks, scissors,  axes, metal fingers….. are all thought cool. See silly people think Michael Meyers, Jason Voorhes and Freddy Krueger aren’t real. But there are knife loving socio paths like me whose heroes come straight off the celluloid screen. Every day in October, I butcher someone in the fashion of one of my idols. I have never been caught. Variety and seemingly random victims are the keys to not being caught. 

How would you like to be butchered?

knife play phne sex butcher gothBy a psychopathic wooden puppet named Blade with a knife? By a sweet camper girl named Angela, wielding a big ole butcher knife? Victor Crowley style with a hatchet? Vengeful fisherman style with a rusty old hook? Or maybe you prefer your hook Candyman style with the added benefit of a swarm of bees to sting you to death? Then there are your garden variety crazed killers fond of basic kitchen cutlery like Ghostface , Jack Torrence, Chucky, Dexter or Patrick Bateman? Lizzy Borden style with 50 whacks? Jason style with a menacing machete? Maybe you have mommy issues and would like to be butchered Norman Bates style? Freddy Krueger style with sharp metal fingers?  Hell, I will even go all Fatal Attraction on your ass and kill you and your bunny. My favorite way to butcher is Michael Myers style. Big fucking sharp knife, cold dark stare, never say a word. Just butcher you and move on to the next victim.The possibilities are endless when you have a knife loving  serial killer groupie like me. My only MO is that I use a sharp instrument. I love slicing, cutting and mutilating flesh. Such a turn on to watch a worthless POS bleed. I can imitate any one of my many knife wielding idols.

Indeed October is my favorite month. Tomorrow the games begin. Maybe you will survive, maybe you won’t.  But you will bleed, a lot.

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His Name Was Jack

evil phonesex karmaWhat a perfectly evil, bloody, sadistic, sick and twisted idea. Sound like anyone you know? Pretty boy Jack, wanting a go at Gothic me. It was so laughable. And then I was walking by a department store with a Halloween display in the window and I got this morbid idea. So fucking morbid I came standing there thinking about it. Like always the gears in my brain started turning as I began to plot in my mind. Off to the store I went looking for what I needed. Wouldn’t you know that all the tools they sell now days are plastic and cheap and would never do for what I had in mind. Shit, would this end up being a fleeting fantasy that lives only in my dreams? FUCK FUCK FUCK! Walking into the local thrift store my mood was quickly moving from wickedly excited to dark and brooding. Then I saw them. The wooden handles and gleaming metal. They were perfect! I don’t know how old they were, but they would certainly work for what I had in mind. The sign on them making my heart quicken again as my nipples grew hard.  “PUMPKIN CARVING KIT”  I bought them right away and rushed off to find Jack. He was going to be thrilled that I was giving him a chance to make me happy. And happy I would be when his head was severed and I was carving it, my Jack O Lantern. evil phonesex pumpkin carving