Torture Sex of Your Cock and Balls Feels Like Karma!

As a sexy switch, I can attest that giving torture sex seems more fun than receiving it. Men used to torture me all the time for shits and giggles like my father. Sometimes I look back at my youth, and I’m surprised I’m still on this earth. But I believe in karma. I’m not necessarily religious, but I do believe that the energy you put out in the world will come back to haunt you.

Every single man who abused me when I was young, I remember. My father drugged me a lot to make me less feisty. But when the same men assault you daily for years, you remember them. Their faces forever etched in my brain. And I have exacted revenge on a few of them. Some of them I’ve never been able to find. And others walked into my life, totally clueless to my identity. The fact that they don’t remember the girl they abused pisses me off even more.

When Jason came into the club, I felt like I had seen a ghost. I felt like that innocent young vulnerable girl again. But I am no one’s teen rape porn star anymore. I grew up and I survived. And what my daddy and his friends did to me made me stronger. I know they tried to break me, but they failed.

Revenge for Sexual Abuse Feels Like Karma

The club knows about my past. They also know that occasionally somebody from my past ends up in the strip club. But those men never leave the strip club. I will admit to murdering a few men for revenge. When it comes to revenge for assault, I choose torture. Let them live with their reminder of what their actions cost them.

And yes, I’m talking about castration and sexual torture. Even in the VIP room while giving him a lap dance, this guy did not recognize me. But I did not tip my hand, and he acted just as pervy as I remember. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. It sent chills up my spine to have this asshole even touch me. But I had to be patient because my thirst for revenge would soon be quenched.

I let him think I would fuck him. But instead, I tied him to the chair and stuffed my panties and bra in his mouth to shut him up. I grabbed a knife, and I carved my name in his dick to see if that jogged his memory. But I didn’t carve Cassandra. I carved my real name. Cassandra serves as my alter ego. A new identity for a fresh start I told myself.

Ding ding ding. I saw the look on his face. He recognized me finally. Although he tried to apologize and tell me he became a new man, I told him a new man wouldn’t be groping a stripper in the VIP room trying to get his dick polished. And while tied up, I did something I’ve never done before. I bit his dick off. Normally the torture I like involves knives and castration bands.

If You Don’t Use Your Cock for Good You May Lose It

And although I carved my name in his dick, rage overcame me, so I just bit his dick off at the base. I felt like a wild animal with a bone. And with my face covered in his blood and flesh, I smiled. He knew what joy removing his fucking cock gave me.

I wanted the torture to last longer. And I planned on castration phone sex, so he would never fuck a girl against her will again. Once a predator always a predator. But in that moment, I ripped the dick from his body giving me the same outcome.

I made a mess of the VIP room. But the girls helped me clean it up. We all have each other‘s backs because we all have men in our past that deserve a heavy dose of karma. One of the girls took his dick home to feed her Pitbull. We dragged his body to the alley to let him bleed out. Cops will think he got himself in trouble somehow being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But they’ll never think a stripper ripped his dick off with her bare teeth as revenge.