Tag: Torture phone sex

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!

A Sadist’s Home Movie

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We wanted to make a film, one that we could enjoy…and one that we could send to our next victims; we thought it’d be the perfect cruel joke. It was all set-up.

The little heathen was still screaming for her mommy; it would’ve been funny if I wasn’t growing tired of it. My accomplice was torturing the stupid, young pink ball of flesh while I was sharpening my saw. The girl’s mother was on my table, completely bound; and, I had made the good decision to gag her. She was crying, though, for her little spawn that was being stretched and carved like a Halloween pumpkin.

I dug the teeth of the saw into the woman’s flesh, just enough to imprint the edges; then, I pressed down, the faintest little trickle of blood falling down her forearm and wrist. She yelped with the gag in her mouth; I always enjoy those first few cuts while they are cognizant. It only slightly burned, but she knew that was only the beginning. I patiently sawed through tissue and bone above her right knee; it wouldn’t be a fatal wound and I didn’t want it to be. The sinew and corpuscles were completely visible as the dead leg hit the floor. She wasn’t thinking about her daughter anymore; isn’t it funny how our attention can change at the drop of a pin!

I was happy that the daughter had quit screaming; I looked once more and saw my accomplice shoving his cock into the hole where her small little nipple had been. Returning my attention to my victim, I sliced off her fingers, one by one, with the hedge trimmers. Then, I completed my tasks by removing her other limbs the same as I had done her right leg. She was a stub of a person, now. I untied her and threw her on the ground near the door. I taunted her, “Run, run. This is your chance.” I laughed as she continually fell and struggled.

Finally, when she had given up, I raised her by the hair and slashed her throat, making sure that the camera caught a close-up of her face. Yes, I would watch that over and over again later. The smell of death permeated the room; my accomplice and I were pleased with ourselves. We stuffed the bodies into a garbage can that we’d leave outside of the local daycare.

The Gang House

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The city gang owns an abandoned building where they keep me for months at a time. I barely got food to eat. The only thing that would satisfy my hunger was sucking all their cocks until they filled my belly. I hoped that my husband was going away getting the help he needed. In reality I know he was getting high and fucking all of the crack whores in the projects. I was his payment for a stable supply of dope. They would come to the abandoned house in the middle of the night drunk and high with hard dicks ready to fuck. This is one of the few places I can say was worse than being home with my husband. Only when I was tore up and needed to recover from their lack of care for me did I go home. The first week home is the worst for I am ignored and left to mend my own wounds.  What is my husband doing? He does nothing but fumbling around trying to scratch up money to pay for his no longer funded addiction. Nobody cares about me. I should have just been left to rot in that abandoned house.

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Calling all Sadists

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Several guys have solicited my services who think that they are so tough but tuck their tails and run at either gore or sweetness. They mock my sugary, southern accent…but how do you think that I catch such ripe, young prey?! You are fools if you think you can come at people with a hatchet and slaughter many. No, I prefer to gather them up like a sweet flock and mutilate and torture them. You must have patience and the thirst for sadism.

People ask if I cum, and that’s stupid. Of course, I do. But it’s from sadistic torturing, blood, guts, revenge, and fucking the dead holes of some skank or mother.

I am tired of this silly little game that some people play. I want fun…relentless cruelty. And, if you cannot laugh in the face of a munchkin’s face getting clawed open by a shovel, don’t call me. If you can—and I do hope that you can—add to this, call me NOW. Let’s have some fun and let our wicked minds run rampant. Do you dare? I do…I double-dare you!

Mummy’s Revenge

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I saw an advertisement on an online bulletin board that intrigued me; it was a college brat who wanted revenge against his pregnant girlfriend. I wasn’t sure if he was serious, but his anger sounded genuine and worth checking out. Sure enough, when we met at a coffee shop, he didn’t blink when he told me that he wanted his ex-girlfriend dead for cheating on him. I contrived a plan and he agreed.

We kidnapped that whore and tortured her, taking turns beating her with 2×4 planks of wood with nails that ripped her flesh. He struck her pussy with the sharp objects, laughing manically as she bled and cried in pain. She begged for her life, stupid bitch. We extracted each one of her teeth, her skull bleeding profusely. And, then he fucked her mouth with his hard cock while whispering that he was going to do the same to pink flesh inside of her. He was glad that he hadn’t gouged her eyes yet…because the look of horror was priceless.

I took the liberty of carving out her belly, flopping open the flesh and pulling the spawn out of her. She had several minutes to watch her ex-boyfriend spin it on his cock before bleeding out. Then, I told him that I wanted to mummify the spawn, fix it so that he could unwrap it and always fuck it whenever he wanted. I drained the blood and began the embalming process while he kicked around the corpse of his ex.

Today, I read in the paper that some stupid moron had jumped from a building; apparently, he had left a note that described his guilt and the horrid details of killing his ex alone. He was inconsolable, people said, because he learned that she was carrying his spawn. What a fuck-ton, I thought and laughed as a I finished my coffee. The paper didn’t mention anything about the mummified spawn; I guess he didn’t want to be remembered as a complete monster…what a douche-bag wimp!

Black Bitch

The first time my husband even proposed the idea of selling me I thought he was joking. When I turned around and saw the rage in his eyes and the sweat dripping down his face. That’s when I knew he wanted to sell me for his next fix. He begged me and said if I loved him I’d do it. I couldn’t understand why my fucking husband would want me to suck another man’s dick for money. This pissed him off so bad he punched me in the face and dragged me by my hair to the linen closet. He locked me in there without food or water until I agreed to be his fuck whore. I was dressed in this sexy lingerie and forced to let men fuck me one after the other until my pussy was bloody and swollen. I had to sleep with my legs open because of how sore it was which brought on even more abuse and torture. I was the property of a gang and called their black bitch. I don’t think they even know my real name at this point. I dream of the day that they beat the last breath out of me. Only then will my misery end.

Clitoris Removal

Taboo Phone SexYou are the boss of me, and my pathetic life is in your skilled and merciless hands. I love that you chose duct tape instead of leather straps. I want to be raped and mauled by a monster, and you know I crave the pain you’re about to inflict.  Will you take my last breath or will you make me suffer over and over until I lose all sense of reality?

You have had this I.V. running through the vein in my neck for days, or has it been weeks? I have no sense of time. I know its what keeps me alive, with antibiotics and whatever else you put in there that courses through my blood, because you own that too. My blood belongs to you and I long for you to take it at will. I love seeing it on your face and dripping from your chin after you bite me all over. I want to feel the scars you have left all over my body, but my fingertips have long been sliced away by your scalpel. I can still see the scars though, you have spared my eyes, because you want me to watch you ravage my body and see your blades cutting my soft skin.

Mirrors cover the walls in this tiny underground lab, so that I can see every angle of what you do. You tell me its time to remove my clitoris, you say it makes me a horrible skanky slut not worthy of your cum. Please take my clitoris, it also belongs to you. You show me the giant clippers you’re going to clip it off with. I can’t wait for the pleasure to course through my body. My adrenaline is pumping and I want you to dismember my pussy and let it bleed away all the bad things I have ever done.

You run the sharp metal clippers down my torso towards my clit, leaving an open wound, but we both know this is nothing compared to the agony you are about to inflict. You remove the duct tape from my mouth because you love to hear my screams when it hurts the most. I hope I can stay conscious through the removal, because I know you will start fucking me as soon as the blood starts squirting out. Let me bleed out, snuff me once and for all, I don’t deserve your attention.

Yes, I will count down to the snip, 5… 4… 3… 2…1…

Accomplice phone sex with the Mortician of Souls

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I got called in for an emergency; some old man had died and his wife demanded that he be embalmed and the funeral happen in 24-hours, which is not usual. I laughed and thought that the broad had probably gotten tired of his ass and killed him. Sure enough, when she showed up, she didn’t look like a widow: she had on a tight pink dress that showed her ample and fake cleavage. I overheard her talking about how her husband had left a note that all of this should take place A.S.A.P. because he didn’t want her to suffer through the loss longer than she had to. She had a dyke accompanying her, and I believe that was the real reason for the hurry.

I embalmed the stupid son-of-a-bitch; and, I caught a glimpse of why he died…poisoning. I wasn’t surprised, and I would have just let it go, but I thought of something better. I worked extra-hard and got him prepped in no time; then, I left but re-entered through the back. I had laced her sparkling water and waited for her to approve the body. She walked in and stood in horror; I had propped her deceased husband up, eyes open, and posed in a relaxed state. With the lighting, he looked like he was waiting on her. I jammed a cloth in her mouth before she started screaming; and, then, I laid her on my table. I told my boss that she had left and I returned to my victim, who was completely conscious now.

Happily I traced a pen around her breasts where I’m sure the incisions had been made for her breast augmentation. I carved out the flesh and then played with them in front of her, flicking the nipples. It was the best puppet show as the stupid bitch started to lose consciousness…but not before I slit her pretty little face and held a mirror up for her to see. Her last moments were looking at her own mutilated body and screaming; then, I took a picture of her holding a pair of scissors above her ripped torso. She had, after all, done this to herself! 

I put the breasts in the coffin, under the pillows of the old man; I thought he’d appreciate that gesture. Then, I buried the bitch in an animal graveyard. Poor thing left a note…that she had felt so sad about her husband’s death that she wouldn’t need any of the money and was disappearing to grieve; no one mentioned that the handwriting didn’t look like hers. Hahaha!

STay awAy and don’t come Back

She said she wanted to be my friend. Everywhere I went, the stupid, worthless cunt followed like a poor little puppy dog lost in the world like a maze. When I ditched school for a few days to get high and fuck some dick, floundering in debauchery and soaking up the sin like the Absinthe running through my veins, she sent me some crybaby texts about missing me. How’d the stupid slut get my phone number? I show my true colors–quiet, sinister, seductively deadly–by acting like an lethal monster to everyone I come across. I don’t fucking want them to know me. I don’t want them to fucking like me. I don’t want them to fucking TEXT me. The peckerhead was getting involved where she was not wanted. Almost ruined one of my illicit deals by running her stupid goddamn trap where it did not belong. The wrong place at the wrong time? I don’t believe it. She’d been following me. I found the asswipe whore after school, pushed her against the wall and told her straight-up to FUCK OFF or she’d be in for it. Did she want her little pussy sliced apart and baked into a nutsack pie? I poked her with my sharp nails and scratched them slowly across her skin, prickling the senses and leading her attention astray. “I will fuck you up,” I whispered down to her. “Don’t mess with me.” But the next day, she still hadn’t learned her lesson. I saw her leaving the principal’s office with a guilty look on her face. FEAR. She was scared shitless when she saw me watching her. That’s when I knew what I had to do. I waited to get her alone, and jumped her. I wrapped a nylon cord around her throat and choked the bitch until her skin was completely indented with my malicious intent. I pulled it taut and watched her struggling cease. At first she batted at my hands and groaned, kicking, trying to escape. Screams filtered from the corner of her mouth. She managed to hit me in the side of the head. I smacked her against the wall and tightened the cord further. It wasn’t until I’d heard that distinctive SNAP! that I stopped tugging and tied the knot on the noose. Precious. I tied it up to the hook on the ceiling and walked away, brushing my hands on my sullied jeans as I left. She’s gonna look fucking great there, hanging like the shitscared baby ass motherfucker she is. In the meantime while I wait for them to discover her depressing suicide . . . I deserve a cocksucking serial number for all the sluts I’ve killed.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Taboo phone sex CassandraIt is no secret that I am a subby whore with rape phone sex fantasies. Ever since I was young, I have dreamed of men taking me, degrading me and doing whatever the fuck they wanted to me; even if it left me battered and bloody and within inches of my life. Well, last night, one of my taboo phone sex fantasies, became a reality. See, I have always wanted to be used by a group of bikers. I mean rough sex, where I am being choked, slapped, beaten, spit on, peed on, humiliated, gagged, burned and tortured with big cocks. I put on a slutty outfit that definitely screamed I was asking for it and headed to this dive bar around the corner known for attracting a rough, even violent, crowd. As soon as I walked in and saw drunken biker guys, my pussy came alive and my clit started aching for some hard core action. I walked right up to some guys at the bar and said, “Get me drunk and do whatever you want to me.”

Well, the drinks started coming faster than I could drink them, and guys started lining up. One biker was, “enough of this shit, this bitch needs to put her money where her mouth is,” and he slammed me against the bar so hard it left a big purple bruise across my tits. I felt my panties being ripped off me, my head being shoved down on the bar and a hand choking my throat. The next thing I felt was a fist, an entire hand, being shoved up my ass, then another fist up my tight twat. The bartender hopped up on the bar sorta like an accomplice and began telling guys what to do to me; how to hurt “this bitch.” I felt my ass being ripped apart first by fists, then by cocks, and finally by beer and whiskey bottles. It hurt soooooo good. Pain equals a soaking wet cunt for me. One guy took bottles of Jack off the shelf, shoved them in my mouth to suck then fucked my ass and cunt with them. And not the thin neck of the bottle, but the thick square end of it. The neck stuck out my pussy and ass so they could do shots of whiskey from my tortured holes and twist the bottles deeper into me. One guy said I was the new shot machine; all you had to do was smack my ass hard enough and that the whiskey would poor itself. These dudes were some sick mother fuckers and I was in for way more than I bargained for.

As one guy was making me gag with his huge cock and slapping my face, the wicked bartender said “pee in the bitch’s mouth.” But they all heard the command and lined up to pee in me and on me. It was so degrading and disgusting. I tried to close my mouth and one of them cut me with his pocket knife across my right cheek and said if I was gonna fight, he would cut my face up so bad my momma wouldn’t recognize me, because no one gives a fuck about a dirty little fuck slut like me. Would you hurt me if I resisted whatever you wanted to do to me? I hope so, because I need to learn to be a good nasty bitch. So, there I lay, on the bar, with bottles of whiskey in my ass and cunt, bleeding and smelling like a human toilet. I was used for hours. I was drenched in cum and pee; cut and bleeding; burned with cigarettes; slapped around; tortured with bottles and all sorts of objects from the bar. I was even whipped with wallet chains. I don’t know how I got the fuck home, but I guess some one was nice enough to dump my tortured ass on my living room floor. But by the looks of the carpet burns on my tits, face and knees, I was fucked passed out there. Maybe it was you, my curious neighbor, who saw me being dumped like garbage and took advantage of the opportunity to have your way with a bitch that can’t resist? I love being used and degraded, but sometimes, I get scared, not knowing how far you will go to get your rocks off. The hardcore taboo phone sex fantasies are what get my fuck hole juices flowing, but sometimes you horny fucks go beyond my wildest imagination and not only hurt me badly, but leave me with regret. One of these days, I am gonna get myself into a dark fantasy that gets way too real.