Castration phone sex is my specialty for a reason. I am firm believer that your dick is a privilege not an entitlement. And since I do not think that men are entitled to dicks, I take them at my discretion. I castrate men for a variety of reasons. But the number one reason is trying to force yourself on me or another Goth girl. But I also castrate men with tiny dicks and big dick energy. I castrate men for being serial losers too. Honestly, you could look at me funny and I’ll take your balls.
Neutering men is what I do best. I’m not exactly pro woman. In fact, I hate most people. But I feel a certain need to protect women who cannot protect themselves. When I say I’m always carrying, I mean I’m always packing at least four or five knives strapped to my body for emergencies. You just never know anymore. Men spout off this your body, my choice, bullshit more, and I need to be prepared for the incel douchebags.
Sometimes those knives come in handy when I meet a complete loser who needs to be neutered. Without my knives, I could not effectively accomplish that procedure. Lou thought he was a smooth operator. But I saw him coming a mile away. He’s the kind of guy I love the most. So, cock and ball torture sex comes easily when I meet men like him. Self-entitled, rich douche bags with tiny dicks, who drug women, get free castration sex from me every time.
It Does Not Take Much for Me to Revoke Your Man Card
I watched Lou slip something into this Goth girl’s drink when she went to the restroom. So, I walked over to where he sat and accidentally on purpose tripped in front of him so I could slip something into his drink. Something I knew might be more potent than whatever he gave her. I apologized profusely for being accident prone and went back to the bar to drink my vermouth.
The drugs kicked in about an hour later. I got the bartender to help the young Goth girl. And I took care of the predator. I think the drugs worked so well that he didn’t even realize I was not the girl whose drink he drugged. Got him into my car and drove him to my place so I could remove his balls. I decided to go through his phone. Some little voice inside of me told me too. I found hundreds of pictures of passed out women naked that he came all over. The douche bag filmed himself with these women.
For a moment I thought about sending these pictures to the police, but then I decided not only to take his balls, but to take his life too. The only way for justice to prevail is to kill the serial predators. He woke up, strapped to my surgical table. I had a wood plank holding his dick up. My plan required him to be wide awake so he could both see and feel me take a hammer to the head of his dick.
I Have Castrated Men for Myriad Reasons
This guy didn’t deserve a clean surgical castration. Perhaps you could say in that moment I felt like a vigilante. I told him how we met, what I saw him do, and what his telephone revealed to me. Then I smashed the head of that cock so hard it spit out blood. His blood curdling screams aroused me. So, I pulverized his dick with a hammer. It flattened like a pancake. I took that hammer to his balls and busted each testicle. Although he kept passing out, I woke him back up. He needed to feel this.
Once I destroyed his cock in his balls, I slit his throat. I knew he could not live once I saw what he keeps on his phone. But I wanted him to feel immense pain before I killed him. Men having an unhealthy obsession with their dick and balls.
So, I wanted him to know he would never fuck again before I killed him. I wanted him to think that there might be a chance he would live and not become a snuff porn star. Most killers don’t go through the trouble of inflicting that level of pain before they murder their target. They just kill. I see no fun in that. But then I’m a different breed of killer.




