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Castration Phone Sex is a Level of Pain Most Men Cannot Comprehend

castration phone sexCastration phone sex is my specialty. I received the nickname the wicked butcher over a decade ago. Although most men, I castrate for free, some actually pay me. Can you imagine how pathetic a man must be to pay a woman to mutilate his balls. So, I take their money and leave them without their testicles every time. Most men don’t even realize they should not have their balls in the first place.

Sam begged me to take his balls. A young guy too. Usually, the men who want me to castrate them seem much older. Mostly P men who know they will eventually get caught and murdered in prison. But they seem too weak to do it themselves. Sam does not like little girls or little boys. However, he does enjoy pain. He hired me for extreme cock and ball torture sex.

Some rich tech, bro guy. Any he visited me this weekend so I could remove his testicles. But I did more than remove his nut sack. I used a sounding device with icy hot in his urethra which made him scream for mercy before the party started. However, we already agreed ahead of time that no matter how much he paid for mercy I would give him none.

The Pain I Bring is Beyond Most Men’s Comprehension

Just a rich weakling. He thought I might go the chemical castration route. No fun in that. I used a scalpel to remove his testicles. And I removed the skin too. Gave him an extra layer of pain he never experienced before. I take my job as a wicked butcher seriously. And if a man pays me to castrate him or mutilate his junk, I do it in the most painful way imaginable. Be careful what you ask for, men.

For a pain slut, he kept passing out. Between his screams and his tears, I found myself wanting to kill him. And I could’ve. He paid me in advance. I always make them pay upfront because I can’t necessarily get money out of a corpse. So, sometimes I do end up killing these losers. But Sam just wanted to explore his medical fetish phone sex fantasies. I mutilated his junk. And that includes skinning his testicles before removing them. Sometimes men need to be careful about what they asked for. As a wicked butcher, I bring pain beyond most men’s comprehension.

I Make Snuff Movies for Pleasure and Educational Purposes

snuff moviesMost snuff movies are fake. Total bullshit. But not the kind I make. I make real snuff films. Most of them I make for my spank bank collection. Although I do not film every kill, I do film most of them. Many years ago, I purchased an old-fashioned cam recorder. No Internet access so no risk of uploading anything to the cloud that could get me busted. My grandpa taught me when I’m making home movies or I want to take some pictures, that I need to go old school analog. So, I use a vintage cam recorder for my movies and an old Polaroid camera for my pictures.

And last night, my protégé and I watched some of my movies. I wanted her to see how I progressed with age. She could see some of my awkward quick kills when I first started out as a murderous bitch. And now she can see how I kill without even batting an eyelash. It’s not that I was ever squeamish about murder, I just lacked the knowledge of how to prolong the torture sex.

My whole movie collection proved quite educational to my protégé. She even took notes. I’ve trained several women in my life. This girl appears to be the youngest. And the most natural. She seems to be the one most like me. Just pure evil. Although her uncle did molest her for years, her killer instincts always existed. Her uncle hired me to kill her while he watched.

Teaching Young Girls to Be Wicked Butchers Brings Me Joy

She got older and threatened to tell if he did not leave her alone. And he decided she was a liability that he needed to take care of for his own self-preservation. But money is not everything. I saw potential in her. But I kept his money and I kept her alive and now she’s my mini killing machine.

For hours, we watched my whole movie collection, and she watched how I torture a man’s cock and balls, especially if he’s also a predator. I go harder on the predators. And I usually let them live with a constant reminder that they will never force fuck anybody again. My little protégé decided she felt ready to practice her castration skills, so we made a list of boys she knows that do not deserve to keep their nuts.

Young Girls with Killer Instincts Need My Help

When you castrate a man, you never need to worry about them going to the police. They keep what you did to them a secret because they don’t want to answer the question of why a woman would do that to them. Yes, I have castrated men just for pure shits and giggles. But many men, I castrate are sexual predators. Men who do not deserve to keep their balls or ever enjoy an erection again. When you castrate a sexual predator, they soon realize being neutered is better being force fucked by black men in prison every day.

So, my protégé and I will use the brat offenders’ list to find some cock and balls for castration phone sex practice. She can learn how to make a man suffer using known offenders in the neighborhood as practice. Sort of vigilant justice, with an educational spin. And once I feel confident of her castration ability, we will work on her list of schoolboys who need neutered early in life. Double trouble her and me. We’re going to make the world safer for young girls one set of balls at a time

Murder Phone Sex Fantasies Come Alive with the Right Accomplice

murder phone sex fantasiesYou can admit your murder phone sex fantasies to me. I have them too. And I have them in droves. Every day that passes, I meet some jackass or some cunt I want to slaughter. And sometimes I enjoy an accomplice for that or sometimes I’m doing it solo. However, yesterday I killed with my young protégé. I’m grooming her, but not for the reason most perverts would groom her. I’m grooming her to be the kind of girl who can get away with murder.

I see so much of myself in this young girl. Full of anger and promise. I just need to teach her how to harness that anger. Normally, when somebody shares a history with a person who ends up dead, that person with the shared history becomes a suspect. That’s why I advocate using surrogates when possible. But sometimes a person just needs to die that much

This douche bag from her school deserved killer phone sex maybe even more than anybody else I’ve ever killed. My protégé told me about this boy from school who tortures animals, films it, and then shows it to a few classmates. Although I plan on going after the boy who enabled him, I wanted to focus on all my pain and rage out on this asshole perpetrator first.

Pick a Fair Fight Loser, Or Die

My protégé lured him to my cabin in the woods. She made it sound like they could torture animals together. Here’s the thing. I like animals more than people. When her classmates saw me, I think he realized he might be a goner. And that did seem to be my plan. I read him a list of his offenses and what I thought would be suitable punishment. We tortured him like he tortured animals. Plus, we filmed it and even live streamed his torture. The animal lovers and the folks with a conscience ate it up.

He deserved torture sex. And deserved the death that followed. We began with cutting his flesh, breaking his limbs, and sodomizing him with a jagged big dildo. The dildo from hell. This loser who could not pick a fair fight, died from blood loss. And hopefully pain too. I planned on dismembering him, but the loser died too quickly. I guess he can dish out the torture, but he can’t take it.

My brilliant protégé picked out a most deserving man. A man deserving of death and torture. In a poetic justice move, I fed him to the animals outside. It felt like they wanted to contribute to his death and torture. My protégé does hold a connection to this loser, so I protected her. And I covered my tracks well. Nobody will ever be able to prove she had anything to do with it. But I’m glad she agreed that anybody who tortures animals should get the death penalty. Of course, I want to be his executioner.

Men with Rape Phone Sex Fantasies for Me Never Live

rape phone sex fantasiesMen who harbor rape phone sex fantasies for me never live. And if they do live, they live without their balls and sometimes even without their dicks. I think I spell it out very clearly in my blogs that I’m not some sex doll for you to use. I’m a dominant fucking bitch. And a sadistic one at that.

I’ve killed men for less than trying to force fuck me. Perhaps, you could say I possess Spider-Man senses. I always know when some pathetic little bitch boy tries to put something in my drink. Men never realize this, but they make a special kind of nail polish for women. And that nail polish changes colors when it encounters roofie drugs.

Of course, a woman invented that to keep other women safe. And in a way I’m a vigilante for women who I don’t even like. I’m not a clique kind of girl. So, I don’t really have a girl squad or anything. Perhaps you could say I’m equally mean to everyone. Something changed in the past year or so. Men feel more emblazoned to take what they want even when it’s not theirs to take.

Men Who Fantasize About Violating Me Never Live

Perhaps I just felt like killer phone sex. It didn’t take much this weekend for me to decide to kill a man. When I get in my murderous mood, I do my best to uphold a certain code. However, I am a less principled Dexter. I think even Dexter would agree Marcus deserved to die. Not only did I find Marcus on the brat offender list, but his rap sheet also appears to be at least a mile long. And it includes everything from armed robbery to drugs to sexual assault. Marcus might not have wronged me, but he rounded enough people to put him on my radar.

So, I hunted him this weekend and observed him in action. I observed a predator preying on drunk coeds. Now I’m not a fan of coeds in general. For the most part, they behave like rabid dogs. They would kill each other over a cute frat boy. Coeds seem self-absorbed, mean and shallow.

Marcus needed to go. Not necessarily because I wanted to champion drunk coeds. It’s just the principle of the matter. Taking advantage of drunk women, seems like a pussy move. Some men can only prey on women if they drug them because they can’t handle fighting a woman. My guess most women would neuter Marcus or at least punch him and kick him in the balls repeatedly trying to escape.

For Me, Its More About the Principle of the Matter. A Drugged Woman Does Not Equal a Fair Fight

I saw him putting something into a coed’s drink as I stood at the bar near them. So, I broke a glass to create a distraction and switched their drinks. Marcus became a sloppy drunk quickly, and I escorted him into my car and took him to my cabin in the woods where I mutilated his body. And tortured him for hours, eventually murdering him. But he deserved it. Actions have consequences.

When he woke up, he discovered himself naked, tied to a dining room table spread eagle with a castration band around his balls. And I told him what a dumb ass predator he was because he drank his own roofied drink. Even though I eventually killed this loser, he deserved castration phone sex first I wanted him to think he would survive, just without his balls. Perhaps you could say, I revoked his man card. He didn’t deserve his balls.

I am a Vigilante for Women I Despise

For hours, I carved up his flesh with various sharp instruments. I even carved off some of his flesh which I fed to my dogs and the wildlife nearby. Told you I’m a sick bitch. I enjoy torture. It feels empowering to torture a man like Marcus, who preys on the vulnerable. Honestly, my moral code does not appear close to Dexters. I didn’t really torture him and murder him to protect the future generation of women I could care less about. I hate vapid coeds. But I just felt like killing and torturing a man. And Marcus seemed the perfect mark.

Eventually, this predator died from the wounds I inflicted. And he died before I felt completely satisfied. Oops I did it again. Went a little too rough on him and killed him sooner than I wanted. But the wildlife behind my kill shack seemed excited for the food offering I gave them. Nature will always be the best accomplices when you need to get rid of a body. So, just remember, you can be my accomplice or my victim but if you try to make me your victim, you will be bear shit the next day.

Knife Play Phone Sex is My Favorite

knife play phone sexI do not feel like it’s a secret that I love knife play phone sex. Guns are for losers. When people kill with their bare hands or a knife that seems like a bigger challenge and more satisfying. A gun takes luck, but a knife takes skill.

My love for knives goes back to my schoolgirl days. My grandfather, who served as my mentor, owned over 1000 knives. Perhaps you could call him a collector. He liked all sorts of macabre shit. I inherited all his medieval torture devices, as well as his knife collection and some death row chairs that I repurposed into castration chairs.

My grandpa gave me my first knife. He thought I might need it for protection. But I used it impulsively against this bully bitch who harassed me on my way home from school one day. And I guess I hit just the right place for her to bleed out almost instantly. Now I know where the arteries are located. I know how to prolong death. Knives give you a sort of control that a gun doesn’t. I can cut all over a body, avoiding all the major arteries. And when I get bored, I slice an artery and they die.

Each of My Knives Tells Me a Story and Reminds Me of My Kills

My grandpa covered up my first kill. And then he taught me how to become a great killer phone sex bitch. Essentially, he taught me how to get away with murder and when he died, I inherited over 1000 knives from him. But I already amassed quite the collection of my own. And every knife I own tells a story. Sometimes I go down into my dungeon, and I masturbate with one of the knives.

Now don’t misunderstand me. I’m not shoving that knife anywhere. I’m simply holding it and licking it so I can remember the kills associated with that knife. A lot of serial killers take trophies. However, my knives serve as my trophies. Once my tongue goes across that steel blade, I remember vividly each kill I committed with that knife. I relive it and it gives me sexual pleasure. What can I say? I’m a sick bitch.

But I love my knives. They serve as my souvenirs. All I need to do is hold a knife and the memories of all the kills tied to that knife come flooding back. Thanks to my grandpa. I’m a knife, yielding, sadistic phone sex bitch. And I can either use one of my knives on you to create another hot memory or I can let you use my knife on an unsuspecting young girl that we killing mutilate together. Your choice.

Castration Phone Sex Teaches Women to Exact Revenge on Their Predators

castration phone sexWith castration phone sex, I sometimes don’t know where to begin. So many men do not deserve their dicks. But I’m just one woman. So, I had an idea. A rather brilliant idea. If there could be underground academies teaching men how to force fuck women, why can’t there be an underground academy teaching girls how to castrate predators?

Last month, that’s what I did. I started an online group on the Dark Web for victims of sexual predators. However, my group seems less focused on healing from their trauma and more focused on getting revenge. And I believe the punishment should fit the crime. When that crime involves exploring rape phone sex fantasies, I believe the fitting punishment is castration. If you can’t use it properly, you lose your privileges to use it at all.

My little underground therapy group took off instantly. And last night I met a girl for some practical experience. She lives 200 miles away, but that’s an easy drive for me. So, with my knife collection, I visited Teresa and we designed a plan to get back at her predatory uncle.

Fuck law enforcement. They almost never believe the woman, and it becomes a he said she said thing that can’t be proven. Why should girls put themselves through that. They don’t need to put themselves through all the questions and judgments. Not when women can take back what men stole from them.

If Men Can Have Online Academies Teaching Them How to Assault Women, I Can Have an Academy Teaching Women How to Exact Revenge

So, I helped Teresa castrate her uncle who violated her repeatedly for over a decade. Until one day, she just aged out for him. And I needed to seize the moment because Teresa seemed ready for revenge. She lured her uncle to us, and I strapped him down into a chair. Stripped him naked first. What a cocky son of a bitch. He should feel lucky I didn’t kill him. He started talking smack about both of us. And he even said women just need a good dick and someone to remove the sticks up their asses.

Even when my knife pressed against his balls, he didn’t believe two women could mutilate his junk. So, he got a rude wake up call. I wanted to take his nuts too. But in that situation, I served as the teacher. Teresa deserved to remove his balls. She remained calm and collected while telling him about his crimes against her. And when she took his balls, he bled so much. No way he’s getting his blood out of that carpet. Oops, I did it again.

I could see the look in Teresa’s eyes when she sliced his ball sack off. She felt good again. Happy. Removing his balls felt cathartic to her. Now, maybe she can move on from her trauma and really start to heal.

Sure, I know I’m breaking the law with my castration academy. But if men would just keep it in their pants or realize no means no, I wouldn’t need to teach girls extreme cock and ball torture sex. But since the law doesn’t seem to want to help these girls, I will. Although I know we can’t castrate all the predators in the world, we can neuter as many as we can.

Bloody Phone Sex Because I am a Gore Whore

bloody phone sexAs a horror movie junkie, I’m a fan of bloody phone sex. I like to make a mess. For me, I’m living my best life when I turn a simple murder into a gorefest. A guy once called me a gore whore, and I do believe that’s true. I’m very visual. And at the end of a kill, I seem most proud of myself when I’ve dismembered a victim, cut off his dick or sexually mutilated her junk and left nothing but blood, internal organs and sinew in my wake.

I’m a fan of over kill because overkill throws suspicion off me. Makes cops look closer to home for a personal motive. Overkill suggests familiarity not a random encounter. And that’s because overkill suggests rage. And normally folks do not get that sort of rage from a stranger.

When I murder somebody, I can control my rage. I don’t really feel rage for them. It’s more that I just like violence. And I like blood and guts. It’s not personal. The way I see it, I get rid of some asshole or bitch who the world will never really miss, and I get my blood and guts fix.

As a Gore Whore I Turn a Crime Scene into a Blood Fest

Over the weekend I killed a couple. A husband and wife who steal from the elderly to fund their drug habit. I got wind of them before the cops ever did. That’s because I listen to the chatter in chat rooms on the dark net and to people talking in public spaces. I did my research and quickly uncovered the couple. Sometimes I must do police work for the police.

Would the world miss two tweakers? I didn’t think so. So, I broke into their house on Saturday night. And I put them out of everybody’s misery. They start with robbing people for their addiction. But it will make them kill somebody someday. I verified that this couple was behind a slew of home invasions over the past year. I tied them to at least a dozen home invasions where elderly people lost their life savings.

Overkill Throws Suspicion Off Me

People who prey on the elderly for financial gain deserve death. And they deserve a very messy painful death. A trailer park couple with drug paraphernalia everywhere, I think the cops would assume this was a drug deal gone bad. I completely massacred the couple. Sexual mutilation. Excessive stab wounds and dismemberment. It would point to one of the cartels. But I don’t even think the cartels would worry about two tweakers.

But the amount of overkill I demonstrated in their brutal deaths will point to a more personal motive. I even used a chainsaw to take off their legs and arms. But I did that while they still breathed so they would feel it. And so, it would create a bloody massacre. Bodies don’t bleed the same if you dismember and cut them postmortem.

Normally I would prefer the torture sex to last all night if not even for days. However, this couple did live in a trailer park with neighbors so I couldn’t take all the time I wanted. But I did make it a gorefest for the time I did spend with them. And they felt it. They suffered. And they died. Actions have consequences. Even if the police don’t put two and two together, there might be some sadistic bitch like me who does. And what I do to somebody seems far more terrifying than prison.

Killer Phone Sex Fantasies Overwhelms Me Because So Many Folks Deserve to Die

killer phone sexWe all possess killer phone sex fantasies. And I believe in this modern age we live in those desires have only strengthened. Personally, I think I deserve some sort of award for not killing every motherfucker I meet daily. Too many fucking idiots and assholes exist. And most days I feel overwhelmed and not sure who to kill first.

Recently, a fellow Goth girl informed me that she encountered an online predator. Well, her daughter did. Her young teenage girl thought that the person she’d been chatting with went to her school. She got catfished by a much older man. And that much older man tried to kidnap her. But this girl knew how to handle herself thanks to her mother. So, she got away. But I started thinking about the next girl who wouldn’t be so lucky.

Despite having an exhaustive snuff sex list of who deserves to die, I put this online predator at the top of the list. And I set a honey trap. He’s not the only pervert who knows how to catfish. My young protégé, wanted to help me with this. So, I used her picture because I felt certain that a man like that would do his research and find out that she goes to the local high school.

This was our version of to catch a predator. When he showed up to meet her, of course he did not realize I laid in wait. We used my house, so we could easily get him into my torture chamber. I don’t know how many girls this man sexually assaulted. But when traced IP addresses, I realized he’s been doing this for a while. So, I plotted revenge for my friend’s daughter and all the other girls who did not escape him.

To Catch a Predator is My Favorite Game

He woke up in my castration chair. He deserved death. But I feel castration phone sex seems like the perfect revenge for a sexual predator. They will keep their urges, but they can no longer fulfill them because I neutered them. Well, this time, my protégé neutered him. I let her enjoy the honors. And she sexually carved up his junk with a rusty old blade. And she joked about how she hopes his dick gets gangrene and falls off. We both had a laugh at that one.

She eventually got to his balls and removed them. My protégé wants to start her own collection of severed balls. A reminder of her vigilantism and a reminder that she can use her murderous impulses for the greater good. And for us, the greater good always involves making the world safer for girls and women. Trust me. I killed and castrated men for less.

But I’m learning now that even if my kill list seems exhaustive, I always meet some loser who goes to the top of the list at hello. This pervert won’t go to the police because he’d have to admit what he’s done. He’d need to be honest about why any woman would want to castrate him. So, I own this ballless wonder now. And so does my young protégé.

Snuff Sex So Many Men Seem Deserving of These Days

snuff sexSome people seem more deserving of snuff sex than others. And I know I’m not a highly moral person. And by that I just mean, the people I kill maybe the average person would never murder. I used to suffer from an impulse disorder. If somebody pissed me off, I usually killed them on the spot. But that’s how you get caught. And my grandpa helped me with my impulse issues. Turned me into a highly skilled assassin essentially.

Now if somebody pisses me off, I don’t kill them. Well, I don’t kill them immediately. I let my anger fester for them, and I plot their demise so that I can get away with their murder. Few people have killed as many people as me. Now some of my kills I will admit men paid me. A sort of killer phone sex babe for hire sort of thing. But I’m being truthful. I’ve killed a lot more people for sport and revenge than I have for pay.

Charlie died last night. But only after 48 hours of torture. Don’t feel sorry for Charlie, he deserved it. A brat predator. He’s on that brat registry. I know I don’t really care that much about what men do to little girls because they just grow up to be bitches anyway for the most part. But this guy tried to force fuck a friend of mine’s baby sister. When she told me the details, I decided to plot Charlie’s cock and ball mutilation and death.

Men Rarely Ever Meet a Sicker Bitch Than Me

He spent 48 hours tied up in my basement to my castration chair. First thing I did was put hat pins in his worthless dick and balls. I guess, I used about 100 hat pins on his disgusting dick and balls. After that, I shaved the skin off his cock and balls with a razor blade. Very fine skin shavings and then I poured a bottle of alcohol on him. Not sure I ever heard a man scream like that before. But he deserved it for all the pain he’s inflicted on little girls over the years.

I didn’t just mutilate his junk either. But I also carved off his nipples. I burned his flesh. And I shoved a broken beer bottles up his asshole shredding him from the inside out. Castration turned out to be the least of his concerns. I mutilated and mangled his body. And I caused so much intense pain that he almost died of a heart attack. But I didn’t want him dying of natural causes. So eventually, I sliced open his femoral artery and watched him bleed out. I did that last act of torture sex outside in the wild so that the animals would smell the blood and eat him alive.

I’m a sick bitch. You don’t want to cross me either because I just get sicker with age. Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with my friends. And don’t mess with any of my friends’ loved ones either. Or you might die even a more heinous death than Charlie.

Knife Play Phone Sex Requires More Skill and a Sick Mind

knife play phone sexKnife play phone sex will always be my favorite. Honestly, I find no skill in guns. A gun can kill a person from half a mile away. Even further depending on your skill level and the gun. Long range shooting requires some skill. However, close range shooting just requires luck and the element of surprise. With a knife, my subject needs to be within inches of me.

And I prefer knives over guns for other reasons too. A knife can be more brutal because you can do more with a knife than you can with a gun. It requires more skill in planning because to kill somebody with a knife you must be within inches of that person. I don’t even own a gun. However, I own over 1000 knives. I consider many of those knives vintage. Grandpa collected knives. And I inherited his collection and made it better.

Some of these knives belonged to serial killers and murderers who died at my grandpa ‘s private prison. Trinkets to my grandpa. I love using a knife with a story and giving it another story. The knife I used this weekend to castrate a loser who preys on drunk Goth girls, once belonged to a serial killer who would remove the body parts of women and put them onto the men he killed. A very fascinating serial killer who like to turn girls into boys and vice versa.

This Sick Bitch Enjoys Castration

Since I always feel like a sadistic phone sex bitch, I decided to use that knife to castrate this loser and then I took his severed dick and glued it to a pair of strap-on panties. I gave myself the ultimate gift. The gift of his severed useless cock. And I made him suck it. I told you I’m a sick bitch. This man purposely drugs women to take advantage of them. He’s a predator. And he appears to be the kind of man who only escalates.

So, I neutered him. And he should feel lucky that I only removed his balls and his dick. Because this asshole deserved to die. But I think for predators neutering them seems like a more fitting punishment. He will never experience a hard dick again. And he will never hurt another woman again either. He will pee through a stray for the rest of his life.

Sometimes, Neutering a Horny Man Seems Like the Best Punishment Ever

I just added another dimension to his punishment. Perhaps, I felt inspired by a serial killer whose knife I used to sever this guy ‘s dick and balls. We all find inspiration somewhere, right? I used gorilla glue to attach his severed dong to the outside of my strap-on panties. Then I made the loser who just lost his dick, and balls suck his severed cock.

I think he would’ve preferred me to kill him in the moment. But there’s no fun in it for me if I simply give a man what he wants. They need to suffer. And I know castration phone sex does not always make a man suffer enough. But filming him sucking his own severed dick that I attached to my special panties, seemed like a new level of humiliation that even I had not thought of yet.

A gun would not let me castrate a man or enjoy some post castration humiliation. But a knife does.  And a knife with a little bit of sick history makes it even more fun. So be careful men. Me and my knife collection sever balls one loser at a time.