Tag: Mutilation phone sex

Castration Phone Sex with Reagan * My Uncle returns

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

My Uncle is a scum sucking pitiful hypocrite. Every word that comes out of his mouth is judgmental vomitous piss. I have cleaned more dignified phlegm off of my boots.

Growing up in my family was not filled with happy memories. I am sure I achieved my addiction to sadomasochism due to years of abuse. I learned quickly that love was something I was extremely disinterested in. I will not get into too much detail, but my Uncle hung around us rug-rats way too much. Being the youngest of five, I learned just how to avoid him if I could. He was drunk and on dope a lot. Most days a shower was the last thing on his agenda, and unfortunately his main agenda was to depredate my siblings.

It had been years since his memory contaminated my thoughts, than out of the blue there he was. I was surprised at how much rage I still contained for this piece of shit. He still smelled of piss, but I knew what had to be done. It was time to enjoy looking at his cock for once. I invited him in and let him believe that I loved my sweet old Uncle.

Once I had him downstairs, I bashed his head in when he was bent over to take off his pants. Ha! He thought I wanted his pathetic vomit? During that sweet moment of satisfaction, he moaned like a goddamned pig as I sliced the meat between his balls and cock, and in one swift moment his shame came out of his almost dilapidated dick.. spasm after spasm.. blood and cum.

He thought I was going to stop the bleeding I think, cause he begged me. Funny how the tables turn.

Taboo Phone Sex Reagan

Such soft skin…

Magenta2

We make the perfect pair; the most dynamic duo this world has ever seen! Your charming good looks draw those poor, ignorant sluts in and by the time the sun rises we’re dancing among the crimson stained dungeon walls. I have no problem waiting for you to bring them back to me, I know how much the chase excites you. I can see the excitement in your eyes as you drag the little whore by her arms into the last space she’ll ever see. I can’t help but start to feel wet as you secure her to the metal exam table in the middle of our little sanctum. Poor thing; she has no idea that no one will ever hear her screams through the soundproof walls. Why don’t you sit back and watch; you worked so hard to acquire the little tramp and you deserve spectacular show for all your hard work and planning. The excitement in your eyes grows as I slowly take a scalpel from the instrument tray and begin to slice the girls smooth, flat stomach… Her skin is so soft that my scalpel glides through it like soft, warm butter. I would love to hear your thoughts on our latest little specimen, we have as long as we want with her after all.

Blair Meets the Puppetmaster

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Help me. I have been kidnapped by a deranged doll maker. I have been held captive for days , while he conducts evil, painful experiments on me. He has deprived me of food and water.  And, I am constantly in some form of suspension like a life size marionette doll. In fact, he told me I was doll like and he wanted to use me to create the perfect life size marionette. What the fuck? Those dolls are creepy. Always in horror movies, taunting people, scaring brats. Who does this guy think he is? The Dr. Frankenstein of dolls? I tried to beg and plead with him, but he keeps shocking me and stringing me up from the ceiling. He said next he was gonna cut my limbs and sew string through them and even slice my mouth open like the Joker to give me the authentic look of a marionette doll. He is gonna dismember and torture me so he can have his own personal creepy ass doll. Who is he, The Puppetmaster?  This sick, evil, sadistic mother fucker is enjoying my pain, my screams, my starvation. He says I’m just a stupid, worthless cunt and no one will miss me.  He says all girls should be seen but never heard and that is why we make the perfect dolls. You don’t agree with him , do you? Please someone help me.  Anyone. I will be a good girl; I will be quiet. You can do whatever you want to me, just let me live and get me the fuck out of this house of horrors.

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

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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

Humans can lick too

Accomplice Phone Sex Reagan

That brat next door has really pissed me off this time… her and that fucking dog of hers. I am up most nights working and all I can hear, all day long while I try to sleep, is that fucking mutt barking. I have told her over and over and she just laughs and tells me that I can’t do anything to her because her parents would make my life hell and just to deal with her doggy. Does this little cunt know who she is talking to?

That was the last straw, so I tried to think of many things I could do with her and her fucking mangy mutt. I noticed her parents were out most nights, so I put a hidden camera in the window of the bitches bedroom. I watched her for a few days and what I noticed reminded me of an urban legend I had heard as a small one “Humans can lick too”. While this little cunt sleeps, her doggy licks her hand that is draped over the side of the bed. He sleeps there next to her like a good protector while her parents are not home.

Getting my hands on that dog will be easy. I just played real nice and brought my neighbors some treats. I gave her just a bit to help her sleep while I fixed her mutt. And just like in the story, it was perfect.

Little Mary awoke to a dripping faucet, got up and shut it off. When she returned to bed, she felt a tongue licking her hand. Again a bit later, she woke to a dripping faucet, and again shut it off, returned to a nice friendly licking. This happened several times through the night, each time ending with her hand being licked, she felt safe, and fell asleep. But eventually she could not find the source of the drip .. turned on the lights of the kitchen.. and noticed the sound coming from her cupboard..

Upon opening the cupboard, to her horror was her precious fucking barking mutt’s head, cut off.. dripping blood with a note written in the dog’s blood : Humans can lick too!

She screamed and turned around, I greeted her with a lick…..

Accomplice Phone Sex Reagan

Torture Phone Sex: Burn Cassandra Burn

torture phone sex submissive pain whoreI have been a pain slut for as long as I can remember. I started young as a cutter, and then graduated to more extreme measures as I grew older. But something I have never been able to handle is fire of any sorts. I have this new master who smokes cigars. Very high end Cuban stogies he gets from Canada. Well he left me alone for a little while this morning and I couldn’t help myself, I had to try one of his cigars. I mean a Cuban cigar is illegal in the US because of some stupid embargo. OMG, it was smooth with such a full bodied taste. I can see why they are coveted and smuggled into the country. Well I got lost puffing on that Havana and masturbating because it tasted so good. I look up and Master is in the door way livid. He lunged at me, grabbed my throat and threw me on the ground. He started kicking me and spitting on me and called me a worthless thieving whore. I tried to apologize; saying a Cuban cigar is something I was always curious about. That was not the right thing to say. He made me get back up on the bed and take the stogie and smoke it the other way. I had to put my lips and puff on the glowing embers. My lips, my tongue were burning; I could smell the flesh, feel the pain. As I was starting to cry, he made me deep throat that lit stogie like a cock. It burned the back of my throat. I could feel the fire in my mouth; I began choking on the blood and the flesh that was melting in my mouth, when Master ordered me to swallow it. I shook my head, tears in my eyes, blood running out my mouth, gagging on the smell of seared flesh, when he slapped me so hard, I swallowed the burning cigar. The pain was inconceivable. I could feel the burning sensation traveling down my esophagus. The smell of my burnt flesh was waffling through my nose. I thought I was going to vomit. My stomach was on fire. I could almost see a hellfire glow through my belly.

I thought he was done torturing me, but said the fun had just begun. I was a dirty stupid cunt who couldn’t keep her hands to herself and needed to be taught a lesson. I was laying there sick, and in so much pain, when he came at me with a big fat lit stogie and started burning the word thief across my breasts. I was being branded, slowly and painfully so I would never forget what happens to thieves. I knew better than to cry or beg for mercy. But it was hard to not scream as my flesh was melting off my body. He had more in store for me too. He tied my burning body up over the bed and double penetrated me with burning cigars. I have had a lot of things in my ass and cunt but never a lit stogie. My ass and pussy were branded for life. I could feel my insides melting and burning. My skin was scorched from head to toe. It was a sweet, acrid, lingers in-your-nose-forever charcoal smell. It’s a smell so strong that I could taste it. The smell and taste of my own charred flesh was the worse smell ever.

There was not an orifice or area of flesh my Master did not burn me with a stogie to teach me a lesson. My pretty alabaster skin is forever ruined. I am scarred for life and will forever carry the singe marks of shame for smoking my Master’s Cuban cigar. Yet somehow, through the horrible pain, I was aroused. Maybe, you would like to be my new Master? Find some painful, degrading way to arouse me? My pain, as always, is my Master’s pleasure.

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Cunt Watering Again . . . for REVENGE

I am such a selfish twat. I want what I want. Think that’s not fair? Then try to take it from me, motherfucker. I’ll have your dick strung up to the ceiling to hang like a depressed kitty cat cunt. Your left ball sack will be severed and shoved down your throat in a millisecond. Ever had your eyeball gouged out with a rusted spoon and sewed midway into your snout hole so that you’re choking on your own black bile? Yesterday’s piggy pie doesn’t taste nearly as good coming up the wrong way, baby. I warn the people in my life well enough and very often. I tell them not to mess with me. If they don’t listen, it’s their own funeral.

My good friend Jerry missed this little memo, I’m afraid. He came around yesterday looking for some ‘apples.’ Produce dealers like me know exactly what kind of rough, evil shit this translates into. PCP is the devil’s handiwork, let me tell you. Angel dust might as well be evil incarnate. I’ve seen some stupid goddamn fools fuck themselves up on that shit. You could very well find it reasonable to saw off your own fucking leg.

Anyway, Jerry decided he was HORNY and that my pert little ass looked like a tasty treat for him to munch on. Little did he know, putting the moves on me in a non-consensual way is a very, very bad idea. It took me quite awhile to clean up the mess he made. You see, I had to take my baseball bat and bash his skull into the ground until it splintered and cracked. I think I might’ve gotten a little peek at his brains–if he ever had any at all–but otherwise, I made a nice meat stew out of his head.

Then I went around back and fed it to my new doggie. That’s right. I’ve got a new Great Dane. Her name’s Cat. She’s no pussy, though. She’s a hunting hound the size of a fucking horse. Her favorite food just so happens to be human, too. She’ll finish off my leftovers very nicely. Bianca’s Body Farm is back up and running, motherfuckers. Cum at me. I dare you. You’ll find yourselves fucked up and stuck inside of a blender the size of a big ass puppy dog’s jaws. Seriously, I am one skinny ass bitch you don’t want to piss off. You’ve been warned.

A Little Spider Said…

I’ve got a little hiding spot you wouldn’t ever want to visit. It’s my favorite place in the world . . . The smell of rotting corpses snakes through the air . . . decrepit gravestones crumble, and the sound of brittle bones breaking underfoot emanates from all across the sultry, spoiled air . . . It’s enough to make a grown man cry–especially after dark. This is where I conduct my best business: the ruins of the old stone mausoleum at the South Wayside Cemetery. The dilapidated concrete structure is furnished with broken glass, cobwebs, and the worst thing of all . . . me. In the little nook near the corner, my favorite toys are waiting.

Sometimes I do it because I’m dead inside. Sometimes I do it because I need to feel something . . . instead of nothing at all. Mostly, I just do it because it gives me a nice little thrill. Hurting people always makes me laugh. I guess it started out the time some motherfucker stole my drugs and I needed to interrogate his friends. Safe to say, I’ve adopted it as a new hobby of sorts. I love to fuck up a nice, unmarred human body.

There was this one bitch whose ass I seared with a heated frying pan. I’d left it on the stove to get the metal nice and scalding, then I slapped that ass to watch her porcelain skin scorch and burn. Her legs were tied doggie style to posts in my lair, and I occasionally dipped down to smack that pussy. She passed out three times and shrieked like a banshee. I just revived her and started over again . . .

Evil Phone Sex with Blair: Held for Ransom

Mother Fucker:

We have your mother. We know she is your favorite fuck toy; the only thing you really own and without her you will be completely lost. We are holding her for ransom. As long as we have her, we own you and can get you to give us whatever we want. But we don’t want your fucking money. We know the only thing of any value you own is your whore of a mother. We have been watching you for weeks through your bedroom window. We know all the perverted kinky things you two do together; how you abuse her for you and your friends’ pleasure. We want that fucking machine you use on your precious mommy. We get so hot watching you tie her to the bed, shove a ball gag in her mouth and start fucking her cunt and ass till she screams and begs for mercy. We want to use it on the pretty prey we dupe into coming back to play with us. Your fuck machine is gonna be an accomplice to our twisted fun sex games with the chicks we pick up and abuse for our pleasure. We are gonna ruin asses and cunts with that fuck device. And until you fork it over, we gonna ruin your precious mommy’s ass. And if we don’t get it by 5 PM today, we will snuff your bitch out and enjoy watching her die a slow painful death. Your mommy’s life and tight ass are in your hands. Give us the fuck machine and you can have your fuck toy back still breathing.

Evil Lesbo Bitches

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Baby:

Please give these crazy bitches that fuck machine. My ass and life depend on it. I was waiting for you on our bed when they broke into the house and kidnapped me. They didn’t believe me when I said you keep all our toys and torture devices under lock and key and because you are my master; only you have the key. They keep me in a cage like an animal and are anally torturing me with all sorts of devices. If you don’t give them what they want, my ass will forever be ruined. I want my ass tight for your cock baby. My ass belongs to you, as does my cunt and my tits. These evil bitches are getting off on my screams and my pleas. I don’t know how much more I can take. Just give them the fuck machine so I can be back in your bed, being your bitch, being your whore. I love you so much. They said that if they don’t get it by the end of the day, they are going to use a choke pear to mutilate my rectum like in the medieval days. Baby, do you know what that is? It has sharp prongs on the end and they shove it in an orifice, and it expands, shredding the body. It will kill me baby, slowly and painfully. I am so scared. We can get another fuck machine. These bitches are demented and so sick they would kill me over a stupid sex toy. I’m pleading with you to give them what they want to save me. I belong to you and no one else. Please baby, this is not a joke. This is real. I’m in pain and I am really scared. Give them their ransom demands. My life depends on it.

Your Mommy

Human It’s What’s For Dinner

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They were herded like cattle, forced to bathe under high-pressure hoses, and watch as their family members perished. After the first couple of sawed, mutilated, and tortured bodies, most of the victims were more worried about themselves…than showing outward feelings about being disgusted as their spawn were executed. The large basement looked like a slaughterhouse, and it was.

It took four of us to carve out their bodies, remove intestines, and season. The fattier ones were grilled like stake and anointed with pineapples. One particularly attractive red-head was sliced up to be pepperoni for the pizza, which would surely be a hit among the munchkins that attended dinner.

We sampled everything, taking delight in our creations before sharing them with our next victims. Once they arrived and were seated, we presented the courses on white napkins and formal place settings. They were all curious about why some of their family members were not there, but they made the normal excuses (too busy, drunk, etc.). The adults and spawn thanked us for our creations.

Offering up a video from one of the family members who could not make it, we turned out the lights and dispersed. Pressing steel blades against their throats, we turned on the film. They agonized and moaned, watching their loved ones being hacked up. One woman looked down at what remained of her fillet minion and vomited; what a waste, I thought, because she had so enjoyed her aunt only minutes earlier!

We began torturing what remained of the family in our own special ways. Preferring knives, I sliced off the woman’s breasts and peeled back the flesh on her stomach. Her eyes were the last to go because I wanted her to see the bloody scene until she died. Then, it was time to prepare our meal from our newest kill. There’s just something about the taste of fear that seasons food like nothing else!