Castration phone sex will always be my favorite type of call. I do love being a snuff queen too, but I take perverse pleasure in separating a man from his family jewels. Like more pleasure than I should. I am not picky about whose nuts I sever either. I will take them from a man who looks at me wrong. Big dicks or small dicks, I take all balls. It is true that I mostly take the balls of small dicked losers and tools who do not understand the term consent. But I have taken the nuts of men who most women would fuck in a heartbeat. I am not most women. I do not fall for a nice body and a pretty face. Hell, even a big wallet does not impress me much. I met Trevor at a Goth bar. He was dressed all wrong, so he stood out. His metrosexual pretty boy looks told me he was either lost or too drunk to realize he walked into a bar where the chicks would eat him alive. He came right to me too. I rolled my eyes, sighed and then mind fucked him. He was too drunk to understand my body cues or even the words that were coming out of my mouth. He was a sloppy drunk. A rude one too. He followed me into the unisex bathroom. He pushed the door open and fell on his face. Now, I knew I could overpower him. I had sobriety on my side. He was quasi lucid but mumbling so much I could not understand him. He lost his balls that night. My guess he does not remember the sexy Goth goddess with the serrated knife who chopped off his balls in the bathroom of a Goth bar. I left him passed out on the floor face down. I knew folks would just step over him to pee and never realize his balls were gone. I gave him a shot to knock him out and blur his already impaired mind. I am sure he woke up when the bar closed, but by then I was long gone. I just enjoy the torture sex of male genitals. It is kind of my addiction and I never mind removing a set of family jewels.
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