[bludlust13]

im just curious if you're doing alright, everyone deserves a check in :3

I’m doing fine thanks!

[bludlust13]

Running up to you frantic, panic in my voice. “Please, please my friend fell and is hurt real bad, he needs help!” You run along with me into the tree line, getting further and further away from any signs of civilization. I slow down, stopping to lean against a tree. “Where’s your friend? Is he far?” I turn around, pulling my pistol and leveling it at you. You freeze, your instincts telling you to turn heel and run as fast as you can.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn you, “you wouldn’t want to end up like all the others.” You feel your breath catch in your throat. “W-what do you want?” You manage to stammer out. I walk closer to you slowly, pressing the barrel of the gun against your temple, cupping your face in my free hand. I give you a wet, sloppy kiss on the mouth, full of aggression and lust. “The only thing a whore like you has to offer.”

I pull at the hem of your shirt, and you pull away. I cock the gun, my finger teasing the trigger. “Go ahead, give me a reason,” I encourage, “I don’t mind fucking a corpse.” The threat gets through to you, and you shakily pull Your shirt over your head and undo your bra. My open hand greedily finds its way to your chest, groping and kneading roughly. You wince and squirm under my touch, but otherwise are rooted in place. Satisfied, I trail the barrel down your body and to your hips. “Off,” I command.

You oblige, stripping your lower half, standing bare. I twirl my pistol around, motioning you to turn your back towards me. You do, quiet sobs escaping your lips. I walk forward, grabbing a fist full of your hair and forcing you to bend down, your face pressed against the bark of a nearby tree. I drag the cold metal of my weapon up your thigh, the muzzle pressing against your entrance. I push it inside you, your body giving no resistance as I easily glide my pistol in and out of your cunt.

Your cries get louder and more pronounced. “Whats wrong?” I ask with faux sympathy, “you’re crying, but you’re so fucking wet.” I force the gun deeper inside you, and you let out a surprised moan. “You sick fuck, I knew you’d like this.” I up the rhythm, your pussy glistening from the attention. “I’ve been watching you for so long, I know all the fucked up porn you’ve been looking for. I know you’ve been fucking yourself wishing this would happen.”

Your only response are pathetic whimpers, and I pull the pistol out of you. I fish my cock out of my pants, throbbing as I rub the head against your entrance. “Admit it. Admit you’re a fucked up, disgusting whore and I’ll give you what you want.” My words only send more heat to your core, as you desperately try to grind back against me. I press the muzzle against the back of your head. “Say it, or I blow your fucking brains out.”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight. “I-,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’m a fucked up, disgusting whore, please use me mister…” With your admission, I thrust myself inside you, the gun still pressed against your head. My pounding forces your head harder against the trunk of the tree, the wood digging into your face. But you don’t care, lost in the ecstasy of being used like a toy. I whip you in the back of the head with the butt of the gun, the pain sending you spiraling, squeezing around me.

“I could do it right now you know. I could pull the trigger and end your pathetic little life.” I pound harder into you, your moans filling the otherwise silent hair. “And you’d die happy, you know why?” You’re throwing your hips back into me now, desperately meeting my cock with every thrust. “Because there is nothing more that you want in life than being a piece of meat for someone to use up and throw away like garbage.”

My words send you over the edge, your cunt tightening around my cock, your body squirming and spasming. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you have the widest smile I’ve ever seen on your face. It would be a crime to see that smile go away. I pull the trigger, the bullet ripping through your skull, splattering the tree with your brain. Your body immediately goes limp, the only thing holding you up being my own body pressed against you.

I grab your hair and force you head up so I can see your lifeless eyes. It drives me over the edge, and I hilt myself deep inside your corpse, emptying myself , treating you like nothing more than a bin to dump my seed into. I suppose thats all you are now. I let your body collapse onto the floor. The look of ecstasy is forever etched onto your face. I clean myself, ensuring I look presentable, before marching out of the woods, leaving your body to become one with the forest.

It was the best moment of both our lives. While yours ended in that quiet corner, I would have many more there. After all, you shouldn’t have to spend eternity alone, should you?

[bludlust13]

In the mood to skull fuck some poor thing until they puke, then beating them for making a mess.

[bludlust13]

I’m a big believer in exposure therapy. The only way you’re ever gonna get over your trauma is to become desensitized to it.

Just think about it, You won’t start shaking when you see man walk down the street, or go into a panic attack whenever a door slams shut. You’ll stop craving attention from creeps and perverts online. Stop putting yourself in such dangerous situations because you’re that desperate for even a hint of human affection. Who knows, you could even become deserving of love.

So come here, and I’ll recreate the worst times of your life over, and over, and over again. Make you regress back to all the times you’ve been beat, abused, and raped. Make you feel so small, weak, and helpless until it becomes second nature, almost comfortable. Maybe by the end of it all you’ll be normal again.

[bludlust13]

Tell me how much you love me while I’m abusing you. Tell me how much you need me while I choke your brain of oxygen, snap your ribs in half, and paint your skin blue with bruises. Tell me how no one else can ever make you feel the way I do while my foot is on your head and I’m spitting on you.

[bludlust13]

I love perverted dolls, and I hate when they’re shy about it.

Don’t be coy with me. I know what you are. I know how depraved, perverted, and fucked up you are. You can try to deny it, try to act like you’re normal and well adjusted, but we both know the truth.

You crave horrific, terrible things to be done to you. You want someone to hurt you in ways that would get them in trouble. You want to scream and cry and call someone father while they drill into your cunt. You want things done to you so traumatic, so deplorable that your therapist is at a loss for words.

And the sooner you admit it, the sooner you’re on your knees babbling incoherently about all your fucked up fantasies, the sooner I can make them all come true.

[bludlust13]

Making them do morally reprehensible things until their own sense of right and wrong are so skewed, so twisted by my manipulation that they become utterly repugnant to anyone but me.

[bludlust13]

Something about casual conversation as I’m relentlessly beating you. Asking about your day, talking about my interests as my fist drives into your stomach, my foot is buried in your ribcage, my belt is whipping against your ass. Getting irritated and your inability to respond, going harder on your poor little body the more you struggle to get words out. As if your pain and misery means nothing to me, that you should be able to take it better and I’ll keep abusing you until you do.

[bludlust13]

The way they tremble and shake when they’re being choked out, almost like they’re having a seizure. Destroying what little is left of their brain because they’re addicted to the heightened sensations, the sensitivity, the feeling of their brain slowly floating away. Every punch that comes after hurts so much more, every inch of them so sensitive they can barely take it.

Knowing they if I was just a little more cruel, I could keep squeezing until they were completely gone. They’d struggle, grasp at my arm, tears would run down their face, but they’re too small and weak to really stop me. As scared as they’d be, it’d be the greatest feeling of their life. Their vision going black, their body convulsing uncontrollably. It’s a shame they’d only be able to experience it once. I just know they would come crawling back for more if they could.

[traumasdoll]

always forget i started uncontrollably convulsing n shaking... waow

[bludlust13]

How could you? Your poor little brain didn’t have any oxygen

[bludlust13]

The way they tremble and shake when they’re being choked out, almost like they’re having a seizure. Destroying what little is left of their brain because they’re addicted to the heightened sensations, the sensitivity, the feeling of their brain slowly floating away. Every punch that comes after hurts so much more, every inch of them so sensitive they can barely take it.

Knowing they if I was just a little more cruel, I could keep squeezing until they were completely gone. They’d struggle, grasp at my arm, tears would run down their face, but they’re too small and weak to really stop me. As scared as they’d be, it’d be the greatest feeling of their life. Their vision going black, their body convulsing uncontrollably. It’s a shame they’d only be able to experience it once. I just know they would come crawling back for more if they could.

[bludlust13]

So interesting, how far you can push a person. Of course I love beating fragile little dolls myself, seeing the fear in their eyes, the quiet acceptance that there’s nothing they can do to stop me. But, having someone so entranced with you, so eager to please you, to feel useful even for just a few minutes,? Few things can compare.

It’s so easy to let yourself be hurt, to surrender yourself to someone so much bigger and stronger than you. But bringing that pain to yourself? Punching your own stomach, your own tits, slapping your own face, going against every natural instinct in your body to give yourself more pain? And for what? All because I asked you to. Because you know I’m getting off to it. Because you hope that it’ll make me like you just a little more.

Hearing their little gasps of pain, watching the life leave their eyes as their brain drifts away, their senses dull, their anxiety replaced with some sick sense of pleasure. Your skin makes such a pretty canvas, and if I can’t add to it myself, you should be more than happy to do so. You want to make me happy, don’t you?

[bludlust13]

Every time I’m beating someone I’m thinking about something else, and they’ll never know they’re just a cheap imitation. Maybe that’s the ultimate humiliation.

[bludlust13]

You’re too stupid to go out in the real world. Too anxious for a job, too broken to socialize correctly. You belong chained up, dazed and confused about what day it is, how long you’ve been locked away. The only worry you should have in that little head of yours is if I’m in the mood to give you the abuse you deserve tonight, or if I’ll let you go touch starved one more day.

[bludlust13]

Forcing you to tell me how much you love me as I violate your body. Making you thank me for every bruise that covers your skin. Reminding you every day that no one will ever care about you like I do. No one will ever love you, understand you, or validate all your fucked up, twisted desires they way I do.

That’s why you have to let me hurt you, sweetheart. You have to do everything you can to keep my happy. Because without me, where would you be? Who else is going to put up with you? Or else is going to hurt you the way you need to be hurt? Eventually I don’t even have to force it; the unbridled love you have for me just slips out whenever my fist meets your stomach.

[bludlust13]

Mumbling I’m sorry in your ear while I rape you. Pleading for your forgiveness because I never wanted to hurt you, but you bring out such violence and sadism in me that I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t stop myself from hitting you. From cutting you. From forcing you to the ground and pressing your skin into the carpet.

I’m so fucking sorry doll, but you have to take some of the blame for this. Look at yourself, how could anyone possibly resist taking advantage of you? You’re the perfect victim. Lonely, depressed, so full of self hatred even this vile defilement is a welcome distraction from it all.

Who am I kidding? I’m not sorry at all. If anything, you should be thanking me.

[bludlust13]

I think being called dad while I violently fucked someone, them begging me to fill them, telling me how much they loved their father while I punched and squeezed probably shifted some small amount of my brain chemistry.

[bludlust13]

The last doll I was with was so innocent. So sweet, so vanilla. She had no idea what she was getting into. She was so infatuated with me, she'd do anything for my praise. We started small: light slaps on her ass, wrapping my hand ever so gently around her neck. She was nervous, afraid, but couldn't deny the excitement she felt as my hits grew harder. Slaps turned into punches, kicks, whippings, whatever I desired to do to her fragile little body. It wasn't just for my pleasure anymore; she'd fall to her knees, begging me to hurt her more, to treat her like a bitch. By the time I was done with her, she was a full-fledged masochist, a perfect pain slut who wanted more and more. She still reaches out to me, begging me to see her just one more time. One more time is all she needs, then she can move on and be normal. We both know it isn't true, but it's a comforting lie her little brain can believe to justify her pathetic behavior.