Castration phone sex is my favorite. I am not going to lie because taking worthless balls and squashing nut sacks is what I do for money, honey. Can you believe guys pay me to take their junk? Occasionally, a woman hires me to teach a cheating man a valuable lesson about keeping it in his pants. I met Serena at a Goth club a few weeks ago. When she shared about her cheating boyfriend, I shared back. Let her know the many different ways she could ruin her man’s nuts. I love ball busting. Slam those nuts in a book and flatten them like a pancake; don some spiked heels and trample balls; tie them up and use them as punching bags; pull them wide like butterfly wings then stab them with hat pins… Really, if a girl wants to bust some nuts there are hundreds of fun ways.
Serena said she wanted more than busted balls; she wanted a dead boyfriend, but not after some serious CBT. I quoted her my snuff porn price, tossed in the nut busting and junk removal for free. A few days later, I trapped her cheating man in the woods where he was hunting. Strung him up by a tree. Wasn’t easy because he was heavy. A sturdy fucker. Every castration gig I get is a bit different. I never bust nuts or take junk the same way twice. No pattern, means no detection. While I had this ass wipe strung up on a tree like I was going to lynch him, my pussy started to drip. Such a turn on to show a man he is no man at all. Real mean don’t put their dicks in another woman’s pussy.
I started tugging the rope in such a way that it smacked that loser up against a tree. I wasn’t going to hang him. That is boring. I was going to slam him so hard against that tree repeatedly that his balls burst. Enough times of ramming that loser against the tree with his legs spread not only busted his ball sack, but knocked him unconscious. I cut him down; he laid lifeless on the ground, bleeding. I cut a sharp switch to whip his busted balls until the skin was shredded. Then I sharpened a stone on a stone, like the cavemen did, to cut his cock off too. Funny, that woke him up better than ammonia. I made him watch as I sawed his pecker off with a sharp stone. He had broken bones, a serious head wound, busted balls and now was dickless. I shoved his severed cheating pecker in his mouth and wrote “cheater” on his dick and forehead with his own blood and left him to die in the woods. How does that Carrie Underwood song go? Oh yeah, “Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.”
