Dark fantasies are the best ones. Vanilla fantasies are for the weak. I am a sick, twisted bitch. I don’t want to cuddle. I want to kill. I want to castrate too. I love cock and ball torture. Most men say they want me to castrate them, but they back out. I must be the one to follow through. Teddy didn’t deserve his balls. He shouldn’t have them. He should never procreate and spread his little dick and stupidity to others. When he backed out, I hunted him down. He was not going to deny me the privilege of taking his tiny balls. I don’t let puss cakes back out. I broke into his home, tied him to his bed and chopped his testicles off in his bed. He screamed bloody murder. He bled everywhere too. I held his balls in my hand like a scene out of the Lion King movie. I was proud to hold his worthless nuggets in my hand over his face. I shoved them in his mouth and choked him on his own balls. I left him there to bleed out. He canceled the money order he used to pay me, so I cancelled him.
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