When you live a life like mine, you need to get out of your head every now and then or else the torment will eat you alive, so a little fantasy phone sex is just the escape I need for some slight refuge from my own rotten little world. I need a bit of whimsy in my life so I let men take on delightful trips from time to time just to try to wipe my mind of some of my most dastardly deeds.
The other day, I went on a lovely winter walk in the woods with a handsome hiker. He might be the nicest guy I’ve ever met, no one has ever treated me with the kindness and compassion that he does. I usually don’t get mixed up with regular relationshipy date bullshit, love isn’t a luxury people like me get to have. The way he spoke to me with genuine regard and looked at me with the kindest eyes, I just couldn’t resist him. Against my better judgment, I let him take me out on a day date.
I needed it, I’ve been going a little crazy with the fuckpig kidnapping and killing lately. A calm and relaxing walk in the woods with a truly delightful man is just what the doctor ordered. We strolled along aimlessly and chatted about whatever came to mind. He really likes movies, just like me, so the majority of our small talk was cinema based, which was fine. Just fine. It worked to keep my mind off of all the blood I’ve spilled and lives I’ve utterly destroyed over the years… for a little while.
After a couple of hours, my mind got the better of me. Eventually, he would find out. This amazing man who wants nothing more than my attention and company would run as fast and far away from me as he could if he found out who I really am. I tried to keep my mind on our conversations, but I couldn’t help myself. Instead of kind eyes, I started seeing his face covered in blood and muck and in lieu of the soft heavenly sounds of an earthbound angel, his voice transformed into the gags and gurgles of a whorehog bleeding out from a slit throat. So I did the only thing I could in the moment and started making out with him.
He was a great kisser but I couldn’t help but to picture myself biting off his tongue, so I got down on my knees and started blowing him. That was fine, I love having cock in my mouth. It’s very relaxing and puts me in sort of a trancelike state. After a few minutes, he popped his prick out of my mouth and went down on me right there on the forest floor. It felt so fucking good and I didn’t want to stop him but I did because all I Imagined was a decapitated head in my hands, swollen tongue protruding out of its smelly mouth lapping away at my labia. When he quickly got on top of me and pushed his cock into my cunt, I realized I had enough.
He wouldn’t stop, though. As nice of a man as he was, he wouldn’t listen to me when I asked him to quit. I gave him more chances than I have ever given anyone to control himself and cool off a little, but he couldn’t. So I did it for him. A stiletto switchblade stuck right in the ribs finished with a hard twist will stop anyone, I don’t care what the movies tell us. He rolled off of me right away and balled up in the fetal position on the ground, screaming like the fuck pig he was. I didn’t let him suffer, I got right on him and slit his throat wide open, an even cleaner cut than I saw in my vision.
I didn’t wait for him to die, I left him there all by himself to bleed out in the bushes. I stood up and simply continued my walk in the woods, sans accompaniment. That’s what I really needed anyway, I should’ve known better. I’m not meant to have a love like that in my life, my violent phone sex world just won’t allow it. The trees helped me clear my head, I really enjoyed my day. I’m not really sorry for how I handled things but I’ll be keeping the nice man in mind next time I feel a little weak willed. Lesson learned. I wear a crown of filth, not a crown of light. I’ll never forget that again.
Violent phone sex is the only kind of I have with callers. I am not a GFE girl. No romance in me at all. In fact, I dismember men who try to get romantic with me and eat them for breakfast. I am very clear that I am not looking for a boyfriend. The only use men serve me is as an accomplice or a victim. There is no middle road with me because I do not think like a woman. I think like a stone-cold killer. I killed a boy in high school. He was my first male kill. I had slaughtered some mean girls, but no guys yet. This tool had it coming. He was a popular jock. He thought he could target me. He thought I was easy prey as a loner Goth girl. Ture, I ran with the Dungeons and Dragon crowd. I was not popular. I was different. But I was not some dumb girl who believed the school jock really wanted to date me. I was prepared for him. Men have never been able to get the upper hand with me because I see right though them. He showed up at my place claiming he wanted to date me. I knew what the jocks did. They made gangbang rape porn movies with nerdy, unpopular high school girls and blasted the videos all over school to slut shame them. Before he had a chance to fuck me, I stabbed him in the balls. I did not castrate him, but I deflated each ball with a sharp pencil through each testicle. I told him that was for all the other women who were not as smart as me. My grandpa heard the screams, came to my rescue and realized I was not the one screaming. He was proud of me. He encouraged me to kill the boy and put him out of every woman’s misery. With my grandpa cheering me on, I slit his throat with a paring knife and watched him bleed out on the grass. My grandpa fed his corpse to the wood chipper and we used his remains as fertilizer. Got my first taste of snuff porn that day. Been a killing machine ever since.
