Castration phone sex is bloody fun, especially for me. I watched a documentary on Lorena Bobbitt last night. I felt all inspired. I do not need her to take a man’s junk though. I castrated my first man in high school. I got a taste for it then. When I was a schoolgirl, the other schoolboys and girls called me Wednesday. That was because of Wednesday Addams. I was a loner Goth girl even back then. A teacher tried to force himself on me in the dark room where I was developing photos for a school project. I carried a small knife on me that I hid between my legs. I had it strapped with a garter to my thigh. My grandpa told me to do it so I could defend myself against bullies. This teacher was the last one I suspected of being a pervert too. But when he tried to fuck me, I threw photographic solution in his face, which burned his eyes, and I cut off his dick. I did the Lorena Bobbitt thing. She did her thing when I was just a little girl in diapers still, but everyone knew who she was and what she did when I was in high school. My teacher was my first willing torture sex victim. He started a domino effect though. I felt empowered grabbing that knife and slicing his dick off so he could not violate other schoolgirls. I knew he was not going to tell anyone what I did because he would have to explain why his dick was out in front of a young girl. He is likely still alive and dickless wonder. But now, so many more men are too. Because he was not the last man to try to force himself on me or other women. I can castrate you cleanly, or I can make it leave an ugly mark. I can take the balls, or I can take the dick too. I can let you bleed out or I can cauterize the wound. I am a taboo phone sex bitch. Not your bitch though. Never your bitch. I am just a tough as nails Goth girl who gets immense pleasure from mutilating your sex organs.
Venus
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