Some 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.


















