Tag: Violent Phone Sex

Meeting Cassandra

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I was taking a stroll at night and I heard crying and yelling down one of the alleys. Intrigued, I looked and saw about five men surrounding this one girl, Cassandra. They were kicking and beating her. One had a lead pipe in his hand, swinging it at her; another had a crop. The sounds were familiar: they were beating open flesh wounds. I waited as my eyes focused on the blonde woman who was being so ruthlessly tortured. As I got closer, I saw one of the men plunging his cock into her, saying, “You like it, you dirty cock-whore. You’re fuckin’ wet!” Another man shoved his cock in her mouth, then slapped her face as he said, “Too much teeth, cunt!” A third guy lay under her and began biting her nipples as hard as he could, laughing as she cried with cocks in her holes. The other two men were stroking their dicks; one was moving closer to the one fucking Cassandra in the cunt. “Stop that, moron,” the guy said and plunged his cock into her ass this time. The moron caught a glimpse of me and smiled; he walked closer, his cock stiffening. I pulled out my knife; and, when he was close enough, I pressed it to his throat. “Don’t get any bright ideas, ‘Moron,’” I smiled. He annoyed me so much that he wasn’t worth torturing; so, I pressed my finger as hard as possible to his throat and he lost consciousness. The men stopped and looked at me. “I want to help kill her,” I said. “No,” they shook their head. “Miss this kinda fun? Are you crazy?” I took out a whip that I usually carry and began cracking it against her open wounds. They continued fucking the helpless woman. I kicked her in the ribs and thought about slicing her pretty white neck. Maybe she wouldn’t be so lucky if she played alone with me next time!

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Sadistic Deviant Phone Sex With Evil Accomplice Natasha

Think of the most disturbing and twisted evil fantasies, you know the ones you obsess about in the back of your mind every night. Those young, perfect innocent bodies that I will offer up to you for our own deviant and sadistic pleasures.

Whatever it is, no matter how dark, gory or bloody it is I am so ready to begin our torture and fuck session with this worthless little piece of shit. No amount of begging, pleading or especially crying is going to change our plans, in fact it’s only going to push me further to go harder and more wicked on her pathetic little ass.

You get the biggest kick out of how I laugh right in their tear streaked little faces and tell them every twisted detail of what she is on store for and there is no getting out of it. No Mommy isn’t going to come and rescue you, in fact sometimes I tell them their Mommies gave them to us to use because they just didn’t love or want them anymore…..sometimes that is really the truth!

Oh, I cannot wait until our next victim, I’m have that yearning and craving inside me that I can’t get rid of until we find a new innocent fresh piece of meat. Are you ready to begin?

Abandoned Asylum

When my brother and I were young, we were sentenced to an asylum; our dumb parents thought that would help us… and it did but just not in the way they hoped. We learned new, better, more creative ways to harm ourselves and others.

We decided to re-visit our old haunt but we thought it’d be safer to go at night when it wasn’t as well staffed. They drug you at night; during the day is when you cause trouble. When we drove up, everything was dark and the building barely stood upright. Windows, walls, and doors were missing. We investigated the debris with our flashlights. There were toothbrushes by the sinks as if everyone had been unexpectedly interrupted in their routines.

It seemed like fire was the cause of the destruction. There was one place that we had to check for old time’s sake: a trap door in the floor. It creaked a little, then broke, as we removed the lid. When I shined my light down below, I saw a skeleton. My brother and I laughed because it had a name tag; and the only people who wore badges were nurses. We strained to read it: R-e-b-a. That was the head nurse!

We looked up at each other and instantly knew what had happened: no one knew about the trap door except patients, and that fire had been set on purpose, most likely to cover up dear old Reba’s death. We looked a little further and could see a few patients’ bracelets. “We finally revolted,” my brother said. I told him that it was a shame that we hadn’t been a part of that; but, we did our legacy…and that’s for another time. We walked out of the abandoned building and said, “Keep it tip-top,” which was Reba’s motto.

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.

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.

rOUGH aND pRETTY eVIL

You want my tit, don’t you? Go ahead–say it. You wish you could wrap those wet, ready, waiting lips around one of my pert and succulent titties and lick and suck until my warm flesh titillates your dick. You wanna whip it out and show it to me like a fucking trophy. Well, I don’t wanna see it. Lock it back up in your pants and tie a belt around it til it turns blue and purple, you stupid prick. The only way you’ll get a taste of these big pretty lumps is if you earn them. My womanly flesh is ripe and ready to pick. I am one goth teen bitch you will have to work for. If you want a piece of this action, I will make you crawl and grovel and beg for it. That’s what gets me off–knowing that you love the sick, twisted freak that I am. If blood, gore, and sick shit makes your cock strain against the tight seams of your pants, we are on the same page. Most people cringe when they hear my fantasies…but I know I am well loved by the pervert freaks who cut little ones into tiny pieces and rub themselves off to fantasies of getting with me.

Violent, Evil and Sadistic

torture phonesex angieWhen I get the craving for violent, bloody, evil, sadistic sex I always let it simmer. I let that craving build so that when I finally satisfy the need, it errupts like a volcano, flowing hot spewing lava over any one and anything in it’s path, creating total distruction. Last week was no different, I got that feeling deep inside my gut for some extra wicked and twisted shit. I let that feeling build all week long making the longing almost painful. Last night the time was right and I let myself explode. I doubled my pleasure, finding a teen couple in a car making out and paying no attention to what was around them (which wasn’t much since they were in the middle of no where). Securing them both to trees facing each other. They were about to wittness everything up close and personal. First I grabbed her beautiful long hair and took my scalple out. Pulling her head back I began to remove her hair like a wig. Screaming the blood was dripping down her faceand onto her shirt, making it stick to her heaving tits. Watching in terror he didn’t make a sound. He knew he was next but what he didn’t know is that it had only just begun. Walking towards him slowly, deliberatly. I can’t help enjoying the surge that runs through me as his body begins to trebble. Ynking his pants down I lick the scaple clean before lowering it to his pubic hair. He rewards me by urinating all over himself as I begin to peel the hair off his body. We have so much more to do! It is going to be a long night for both of them. It was everything I dreamed of. Violent, bloody, evil, sadistic, twisted and a screaming good time!

 

Freak show human doll creation

Violent phone sex

My accomplice devised this wicked scenario and asked me to join in the fun. We kidnapped a young girl and took her to a special surgical underworld. The doctors cosmetically altered her to make her look wonderfully freakish at our command.

We had her breasts enlarged to the size of cantaloupes on her small body; then, we relocated her nipples so that they were not centered. One was even hanging off the side of her massive breast! Then, my partner had her teeth removed so that her mouth was entirely gums; I requested that she have bones reconstructed to keep her mouth open at all times. Her face would be in the shape of a constant “O” like a fish. We both agreed this would be attractive for men who wanted blowjobs. And, we made sure that her limbs were broken and reconstructed to not match in length.

We debated about creating malformed penises out of her clit, but I persuaded my partner to be patient; I had a gift that I wanted to give him later where this was concerned. We added concrete to her buttocks to make her look absolutely ridiculous. All the while, we were taunting her, reminding her, “This is all of your fault. You will never be like the pretty girls.” We mocked her as she stayed relatively conscious with little to no pain medication.
When it was complete, we walked her around on a leash. We took her to porn stores, where we paraded her and kept her in the back room for guys to fuck unmercifully. And, they did: they fucked her holes raw until they were just pieces of meat. Then, we would make her lick up all of the cum on the sticky, filthy floor. And, her open mouth was a perfect urinal.

But, the real fun was just about to begin!

My evil beginnings

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One of my favorite poets named Anthony Hecht said, “It doesn’t seem to me strange that little ones should like the macabre, the sensational, and the forbidden.” I wish my parents would have felt the same way. But, they didn’t. Instead, they pushed me around different mental wards, physically reprimanded me, and whatever they thought was best. The irony is that those experiences only helped intensify the darkness inside of me and gave me ingenious ideas about how to torture my future victims.

For instance, in the ward, I met this young girl who was about my age. She was crazy, but I still found ways that I could learn from her. She would slash her wrists and write messages on the wall. But what I remember most is this one time that she had to go to a funeral. She was able to choose one “friend,” and she chose me, probably because most young people and grown-ups were scared of me.

So, we got to the funeral; instead of sitting with her family members, she walked directly to the front and examined the body with curiosity. With determination, she lifted her small body above the coffin and to the corpse. She opened the dead old woman’s mouth, grabbed her tongue between her little fingers, and produced a pair of scissors. I don’t know where she was able to get the scissors, but it seemed that she had a plan: she cut off the purple tongue and without blinking put it in her pocket. She closed the old woman’s mouth and turned around.

I don’t know if anyone saw what she did; but no one did anything except rip the scissors away from her hand. Maybe all the grown-ups were too busy morning, or whatever they do; or maybe they knew that they couldn’t do anything about the crazy girl and just pretended that it didn’t happen. Regardless, at that moment, I felt a sisterly bond with the girl. She was one of the first to give me the courage to embrace the dark side inside of me, and to help it grow. From time to time, she’d take out the tongue at the ward and we’d both look at it, poke at it, smell it. I was the first to lick it; and she giggled. I still wonder if anyone took the tongue away from her; why would they, what could they do with it? After all, how could they appreciate such a thing of beauty, this mutilated tongue?