Tag: Snuff phone sex

Bloody Phone Sex with Venus: My Favorite Movie

bloody phone sex torture gothIt is pretty clear that I am not your typical girl. No amount of money would make me go to a Nicholas Sparks movie. Vomit. Eli Roth flicks are more my speed, especially Hostel 2. I enjoy the torture porn flicks. Bloody films with extreme violence, torture and sexual depravity get my cunt wet. Like all of the Hostel films,  the rich and the depraved pay for the thrill of killing some innocent lamb in whatever sick, twisted, perverted manner they desire. I relate to the female lead in this film, Beth.  A rich girl on vacation with her BFFS, meets the wrong people and finds herself kidnapped and in a room about to be prey to some submissive nerd who she rebuffed sexually because well, she has standards. But Beth turns the tables on Stuart; refuses to be his victim. She not only tortures him, but cuts off his worthless pecker and feeds it to the dogs, before snuffing him out and buying her way out of the torture chamber. My kind of girl. My hero. Beth and I are a lot alike, I torture and snuff out worthless pigs who have wronged me in some way. My victims are not so innocent. They are stupid, pathetic, weak, self entitled pricks who need to be taught a lesson, sometimes a deadly lesson.

bloody phone sex knife playNo man gets the better of me. And any dude who tries, finds himself castrated, bloody and likely no longer breathing like Stuart. Like Beth, I take no shit from men and I refuse to be a victim. Now, every now and then, I spare the life of a worthless prick just so he can become my torture doll. You can turn a dominate man into a submissive one. I have one Stuart like guy who tried to sexually assault me at a party once when I was intoxicated. Not only did I take his balls, which are in a jar on my mantle piece, I took his dignity. I own him now. He PAYS me to torture him. A rich motherfucker that until he met me, thought all women were on earth to service him and that his money could buy anything, and  anyone.

bloody phone sex evil killHis money can buy anything; it can buy the privilege of my sick, twisted attention. He pays me to bleed. In a twist on Hostel, he pays me to torture him, and he even tortures himself because he knows how much I enjoy it.  His neutered ass, slices his flesh and bleeds for me. He cuts hunks of his flesh off and gives it to me as presents. He even brings me sweet young things to play with, play with in my sick twisted way. Beth inherited her money; I was not so lucky to come from a wealthy family. However, I am rather cunning and crafty, so I am quite comfortable financially because I know how to milk pathetic losers like you. My love for money, however, does not outweigh my need to stalk and mutilate poor excuses for human beings. So, I will hunt and snuff you out for free. I don’t need to pay some Elite Hunting group in Slovakia for the pleasure of kidnapping, torturing and snuffing out pathetic losers. If you are reading this, you are fascinated by me. You have dark desires to hurt yourself for my pleasure; to pay me to cut and slice or even castrate you. Pay me to gut you like a pig and bathe in your blood.

Just like the woman in the opening scene of my favorite movie, I will suspend you above me, slice your arteries, and get off as your warm blood cascades over my body. I love it when you bleed for me. A goddess can never have enough loyal subjects to bleed and mutilate. I cannot wait to pierce your sweet, but worthless, flesh. And, I cannot wait to rape your wallet while I do it.

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Why Me?

I always wondered why you chose me. I remember seeing you watching me from the woods behind my parents house. I would be in the back yard playing, and you would sit and stare, sometimes with binoculars. I saw you stroking your cock, but I didn’t understand that I was in any danger. Most days you were there, so I figured I must be the only one you were watching, and in fact, if my friends came over, you would usually leave.

Did you have a crush on me? Did you think I was pretty? I tried flashing my little tits at you, and letting my skirt fly up on the swing, but you never showed any emotion, you just stared. It wasn’t until the day you grabbed me and molested me in those woods that you told me why you picked me – you told me I was a bad little girl and that you had been sent to punish me. You twisted my nipples and scraed me when you bit into my tiny pussy so hard that I bled.

You told me that you knew I wouldn’t tell anyone, and you were right. You were right about me being a bad girl. I still went out in the yard every day, hoping you were there. Hoping you would be staring and I would always wander close enough for you to grab me and pull me in. As you abused my body, I cried, but I didn’t try to get away. The pain and the dirty names you called me made me crave more. So I no longer wonder how I ended up here, in your dungeon, its because I had been a very bad girl for all those years in my back yard.

Ring Around The Rosie

violent phonesex shadowHer name is Rosie and I got her just for you my dark and demented lover. You would have never gone and gotten her yourself. You want this but you want me to do the dirty work and that is fine with me I love doing the dirty work so that we can enjoy the pleasure of her screams together. Let’s play ring around the Rosie. Let’s surround her and rip her flesh with dthis dull blade. Watch me cover myself with her blood before pressing my bloody body against yours and giving you permission to fulfill your P – rape fantasies on her tight, bald pussy. My cunt is twitching and quivering knowing that you are going to be ruthless just for me and that your dick will fill me once it is bloody and satisfied by the dark desires with in you. Our pleasure is her pain, just as it should be.

No One Knows

On a hot summer night I offered my throat

to the monster with the red roses.

He offered me his mouth, teeth,  and hunger.

I knew he would starve without me.

 

It was a hot summer night and the beach was burning,

there was fog crawling over the sand.
When you listen to my heart,

you hear my terror churning.
I see the bloody shards cutting
through my trembling hands.

You were licking your lips
with your scissors shining.
you were dying just to take your  taste.
We were kneeling together in a puddle of blood
and by the the light of the moon.
You knew there wasn’t a moment to waste.

You hold my throat and my knees grow weak.
As my body gets prepared for the ground.
I’m trying to speak but no matter what I do
I just can’t seem to make any sound.

Then you cut my tongue right out of my mouth.
All the while you were still fucking me.
Now my body is shaking like a wave on the water
And I see that you’re beginning to grin.
We’re finally alone and you can do what you want.
The night is young
And Ain’t no-one gonna know where I am
No-one gonna know where I am….

He loves playing with knives

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He makes me wear a collar that locks all day and all night, every day. Sends me texts, or calls to remind me I belong to him. That he killed for me, that if he wanted to he could destroy me. He has friends that he has watching me closely when he isn’t able to, he sent one to help me pack and ordered that I do whatever he asks.
I was bending over to get the packing tape and felt his friend rub his finger up my thigh. I started to sweat, no isn’t an option for me anymore. He was standing behind me, I knew I was trapped.
When I stood up, he took a fistful of my hair and pulled it toward his face inhaling the smell. He started licking my ear, biting it hard when he felt like it. He got bored of that and told me to face him. I listened like the obedient slave I’ve become only to see that he held a knife in his hand. He told me I was wearing too much clothes and with the knife sliced them off of me. The evil bastard would even rub the cold blade against my bare skin, making me tremble from the fear of not knowing. He could see I was afraid, he got off on it.

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To my horror, his cock was so hard that his pants could hardly contain it. He caught me looking at it so he pulled it out as he demanded I get on my knees. I was kneeling on top of the pile of my shredded clothes while he slapped his rock hard cock against my face, he did it so hard it felt like a punch. He got bored with that too and decided to push my face against the floor. Without warning he shoved his massive dick inside my tight pink asshole. I cried, I screamed but I did my best not to resist. I felt the blade again, running down my back while he forcefully fucked my sore little asshole.
He took a handful of my hair and pulled me toward him, pressing the knife to my throat. Moving the knife across my naked back must not have frightened me enough, I felt his cock flutter violently in my ass. The pain was too intense, I let a few loud screams. My mouth was mid scream when he removed his cock from my bleeding asshole only to jam it into my mouth, nearly choking me with his cum.
There was no time to cry about it or clean myself up. He instructed me to start packing again while he watched me struggle to stand from all the pain.

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Dreaming or Scheming

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It was dark, and I could hear footsteps outside of my door, assuming it was my dad, or some of his friends, I went to turn the lights on and pull my top off. May as well just get ready for the fucking that normally happens. I stopped in my tracks as I glanced around, taking notice rather quickly that something about my room was very off. My bed was at center, no sheets, one pillow, metal frame, the room itself, was barren, all except for what looked to be a man sitting slumped in the corner.
“Hey!” I called out, going to grab his shoulder, to see if he was ok. He didn’t move, so I tried to pull him back, “You drunk or some-”.
I was cut off by the shock that caught in my throat, he fell backwards, the entire front of his body covered in blood, a chunk missing out of his throat, parts of his arms ripped apart.
I wasn’t sure how to feel, something about it didn’t seem real, like I couldn’t put together that there was actually a dead person in my very empty bedroom! I went to the door, trying to open it, but it wouldn’t budge, so the window was my next option. That’s when I got a look at my reflection.
He wasn’t the only bloody one.
It was all over my face, smeared and dried on my cheeks and lips.
I stumbled back, going to the door again, pounding on it, screaming for my daddy to let me out, but the door swung open, knocking me back.
The guy that came in was one of my dad’s work friends, Rick was his name, he towered over me, and when he grabbed my face with those big gruff hands of his something so strange happened, I didn’t go limp or cry like normal, I stood when he pulled me up, and as he started to take his massive cock out, I kissed his neck.
He seemed pretty happy about that for a few moments, grabbing my panties and yanking them off of me. I shoved him to the bed and for some reason… I felt so strong, because he just fell back onto his ass.
I straddled him, my fingers going to my already slick cunt as I pressed down on the cock, being filled up by him immediately as he grabbed my hips and yanked me down. I rode him like that cock was carved out for me by the gods. I don’t know how many times I came, but when he started slapping me around, I grabbed his hands with my sudden brute strength, holding them at his sides as I went from kissing him to biting him.
I remember it being his lips first, the way my teeth went through them so smoothly, I could taste his blood, and his pain. Something about the feeling was breathtaking.
He was trying to get me off of him by then, but there was no way I was giving up a good cock in my cunny just because of a little… split lip.
I kept fucking that dick, kissing and biting more at his face until the feeling of pumping blood from his neck called to me, and rather than spitting out the chunk of flesh that time, I swallowed.
That’s when I realized how hungry I was.
I kept eating him, even after I finished fucking him, I ripped his skin apart, throat torn the last few raspy breaths of his life stuck in my head like a song on repeat.
Ever bite I took, it still felt like I wanted more.
Then the door opened again.
It was time to see who was next.
That was, of course, until I woke up.
God, I was so hungry when I woke up.

Broomstick Punishment

He was just the clean-up crew. He took care of us girls and the basement dungeon where we were kept. He wasn’t kind, but at least he wasn’t cruel. He swept the dirt floor, picking up the teeth and bones that our Master would leave behind. He polished the steel tables, and kept Master’s tools clean. He never spoke much, but sometimes would glance at us as he threw what little food we got through the bars of our cages.

But today, everything changed. One of the newer girls, who still hadn’t lost her tongue to Master’s knife, began to beg the old man to let her out of her cage. The rest of us looked on in horror, knowing if Master even heard any of us speak there would be hell to pay. He was somewhere upstairs, and there was no way to tell what he could hear.  She continued to beg him, showing him her tits and her cunt, and promising him she would let him fuck her if he would just unlock the lock.

At first he ignored her, and went on about his work, but then I saw his old cock rise in his pants. She saw it too, and reached through the cage bars to carress it. He took his ring of keys and actually let her out. She stayed on the dirt floor and took his cock out and put it in her mouth. No one said a word, we just all watched in amazement. She sucked his cock and then took him over to the table and bent over. The old man stuck his cock deep inside and began fucking her. I know she thought she was free, but she took too long in her escape plan.

Seconds later, Master appeared, and as he took in what he was seeing, he went balistic. He grabbed the old man and threw him to the ground. He grabbed his slave whore and the closest thing he could find – a broomstick – and began beating her with it. She fell to the ground in a puddle of blood, taking the blows as she fell unconscious. Blood flew everywhere, and he beat her and kicked her until she was snuffed out. Then he turned his attention to the old man. The old cleaning guy just lay there terrified, hands above his face.

Master walked over, grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him to his washing bin. He took the old man’s head and shoved it under the bleach water, drowning him. The old man was no match for Master, and succumbed easily to the choking bleach water. Master let go and as the old guy gasped for his last breath, Master took the bloody broomstick and shoved it so far up the man’s ass that it came out his mouth. The sound was horrifying, and blood was everywhere.

With no one left to clean up, Master left both their bodies there for us to see. They are a constant reminder of what happens if we try to escape his dungeon. As they decompose, I wish it had been me. I wish I had a tongue to speak, and I wish I had sucked the old man’s cock. I would have finally got my snuff that I dream about every moment of every day.

Episiotomy Time

You love those pussies tight, and you have put me in charge of making sure they stay that way. You gave me a set of tools, and some thick thread and a rusty needle. I watch night after night as you rip open their virgin cunts, making them bleed, tearing them open from vagina to ass with your cock and monster toys. You take away everything that makes them feel pretty and innocent, and then leave them laying on the floor gushing blood fromtheir torn cunnies.

Thats when I come over and tell them it will be okay.  I look at the gory mess you’ve made – turning two holes into one. They could literally shit from their cunt. You tell me to perform the episiotomy, and you stand over us, making sure I sew them up right. You love the ones that squirm during the stitching – you place your boot on their throat to hold them still while I do my work. Their legs fall open, limp and exhausted. I take my rusty needle and thread, and find the gash through all the blood.

I start at the ass end, and lace my stitches up through their cunt like some fucked up shoe, twisting the needle in and out, closing up the damage you caused while they plead for their lives. I know these stitches give them new hope – they honestly believe you plan to keep them and re-use them over and over. But you don’t. You only enjoy ripping the stitches open once – the very next day when they are sore and fresh.  My work is bloody and painful, but they always seem grateful when I am done. They don’t know that you only crave the tearing, and the feeling of fresh stitches cutting into your cock as you rip them out.

The next night, I watch in horror as you drag them out again and begin to fuck their swollen stitched pussies. The thread rips through their ass and pussy lips as they get de-virginized all over again. This time with even more pain. And tonight they will lay on the floor as I ignore them, letting their cunts bleed them out. I watch as all their hope drains along with their life. I reach down and feel my own cunt, stitched up a long time ago. I wonder why mine remain, and I wonder what night you plan to destroy them.

Waiting for the Doorbell

Halloween is coming and I know what you have planned. You have beaten all of us girls beyond recognition, and our scars and blood and overall appearance rivals any zombie costume that could be made by using makeup. Some of us are acged, and some just tied, in the basement of your wicked looking house. Its a favorite trick-or-treat house for the neighborhood bratss every year. They dare each other to come knock on the door for a treat. I know this, because I remember the year I did it – the last taste of freedom I will ever have.

My friends dared me to go to your door. Your house was creepy and rumored to be haunted. Even during the day we would cross the street on the way home from school, rather than walk close to it. You were rarely ever seen, and some of the other brats said you had been seen burying bodies in your back yard. It had all sounded so ridiculous to me. It was Halloween, and I was a brave little thing, well a show-off anyway, and I was going to ring your bell. None of my friends would go to the door with me, they waited across the street.

I rang the bell, and the door swung open. You were no where to be seen. I was so scared, but I peeked inside. From nowhere, your arm reached out and grabbed my throat, yanking me the rest of the way inside, slamming the door behind us. Your grip was so tight I couldn’t even scream, and you dragged me deeper into the house. You threw my tiny body onthe floor, and began slapping me until my mouth and nose were bleeding. You took my princess costume and ripped it off my body, pinching and biting me like a monster, and I felt like I was having a nightmare.

You took your cock our of your filthy jeans and fucked my tiny pussy right there on the floor as I bled everywhere. You tore my body to shreds until the sun came up the next day. I will never forget that night, even after all the torture you have instilled on me since then. Now, I rot in your basement, useless and pathetic. You still torture me and fuck me, but I know its not the same as the first time. Halloween is almost here, and I know you are waiting for the next little brave girl to come up and ring your bell. Your collection of broken princesses grows each year. If only they were smart enough to stay away from the haunted house.

The Family Scarecrow Curse

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My great grandparents were simple folk from the mid west. They had owned a few farms and lived off their land. When they died, they left the only farm house that was still standing in the family. My mother said I could go check it out, and if I felt like it was something I could handle on my own, it would be mine to have. But the more I learned of this property, the less it became about me having a home to call my own, it was the legends of the family scarecrow.

There had been many stories in our family that this particular piece of land was cursed. My great grandparents were not good people and had tortured many of their slaves. And so apparently one of the slaves that was used in many breeding rituals was a young witch. The tale of her says, that the last thing she saw before she died, was the lonely scarecrow out in the field. There were a few pictures of it in old family albums, and undoubtedly, it was creepy. After her passing there were accounts that anyone that came into contact with the scarecrow would have nightmares so awful, than ran screaming from the property. Dreams of their skin being carved off of them by something they could not see. Dreams so realistic that it caused more than a few to go insane. Eventually the farm was abandoned, and no one dared touch the scarecrow.

When I arrived at the property I was filled with dread, and a calming sense of terror. This was a perfect place to bring my victims to.. a sleepy little town.. Evil just lurked about. It was too perfect. I headed down to the farmhouse with a sense of purpose, me and this scarecrow spirit were going to get to know each other really well.

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