Castration Phone Sex : The Lust of the Greatest Evil

The operating theater gleams under surgical lights; the castration phone sex procedure is about to begin. So, I’ve dimmed them to an amber glow. After all, it’s more intimate this way.

So, my victim strains against the leather straps, chest heaving, eyes wide above the gag. Nonetheless, he’s been begging for hours. In fact, I prefer them conscious.

So, I pull on my long black surgical gloves—the latex snaps against my wrists satisfyingly. And my surgical gown flows around me like a shadow. The mask and goggles go on last. Safety first, darlings.

“Let’s begin.”

So, I trace his cock with a scalpel, feather-light. Of course, he whimpers pathetically. Such a pretty sound. So, I make the first incision at the base, cutting through skin and fascia in one smooth stroke.

Slowly, at first, blood wells up, dark and thick. Next, I part the tissue with forceps, revealing the structures beneath.

Now, his screaming intensifies as I expose the corpus cavernosum. Therefore, I work methodically, clamping and cutting the dorsal arteries.

Moreover, the cock loosens from its attachments. So, I sever the urethra with a wet snip.

He bucks against the table, tears streaming. Now, I hold his severed member up for him to see.

“Look at what you’ve lost.”

My Castration Phone Sex is Brutal

Now for the prostate. First, I make a perineal incision, digging deeper through muscle layers. So, his pelvis jerks with each cut. Next, I find the gland—walnut-sized, firm—and dissect it free from the bladder neck and urethral stump.

Therefore, more clamping. More cutting. Until the gland comes away in my forceps, dripping.

He’s gone quiet now. Essentially, shock is settling in. And, blood pools beneath him, dripping off the table edges.

Finally, I arrange his cock and prostate in a specimen jar, preserving them in formaldehyde. Simply, a keepsake for my collection. Now, his breathing grows shallow, irregular. The blood loss will claim him soon.

In the end, I strip off my gloves and photograph my work—

Exhibit ※1: the empty wound, ※2: the jar that houses the keepsake, ※3. The ashen face of my victim…

Until next time, my darlings.

⁓♥♡ Morticia ♡♥～