Although I enjoy all sorts of torture sex, cock and ball torture remains my favorite. Sure, I am happy to mutilate a young cunt with you. We can dissect her like a frog and enjoy her pain. But there is just something about destroying a man’s junk that gives me pleasure. And for me to enjoy the CBT fun the most, you get to live. Live with the constant reminder that a bad ass Goth Chick ruined sex for you for eternity.
Let me tell you about Chuck. He’s a predator. He likes to prey on drunk Goth girls and Steampunk princesses. Not on my watch. When I get wind of a predator hitting the Goth bars in my state, I go to great measures to discover who and put an end to his reign of terror. I think that men prey on Goth chicks because they view us as lesser than some cute coed slut. And I cannot stand men like that.
Although it took a few days sitting in Goth bars pretending to be drunk, I found my predator. And I wanted to kill him. Really, I did. So, it took all my strength to spare his life. However, I did not spare his cock and balls. Castration phone sex junkies like me always mutilate the junk. To men I am a wicked butcher. The butcher of their junk. A sadistic Lorena Bobbit. And I never mind the comparison.
I am The Wicked Butcher of Your Junk
Once I had Charlie in my underground dungeon, and he saw all my torture devices, he realized I was the wicked butcher men talk about. Almost like I am some sort of folklore creature or a mythological beast. But I love men wondering if I am real or not. Chuck knows I am real now. And I have his cock and mutilated balls in a jar to prove it. I carved Predator on his cock first. And I basked in his pain and suffering. If he does not care about Goth chicks, we don’t care about him.
I chopped his dick off a little slice at a time and fed the bits to my dog. And while I chopped his cock like I was making a charcuterie board, I had a castration band around his worthless balls turning them black. Once you cut the flow of oxygen to the balls, they turn purple, shrivel up and eventually resemble deflated black tires. Even though I wanted to kill him, I spared him the snuff porn death he deserved. Instead, I left him with a constant reminder that he is no longer a man. But I doubt he ever really was a man.
Venus
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