My dark fantasies run deep. And darker than most men are willing to even go. I am not a romantic girl. I do not need men like most women need men. They make dildos for those needs. And dildos do not talk, nor do they disappoint. I like to castrate men who cannot take the hint hat I am not into them. It never fails that anytime I am at this Goth bar that some Goth chick lover hits on me. He thinks my dark, brooding demeaner is an act. Like I want them to melt me. No. Guys who cannot understand no and guys who think they can take whatever is not offered to them get cbt phone sex. Well, they get a little more than that because I often take the whole kit and caboodle. If I am feeling generous, I leave a stump to pee out of a straw for the rest of their lives. I do not have a need for men who cannot respect a woman’s boundaries. Go force some other girl into doing what you want. There are plenty of young submissive whores who are really playing games. I have no use for twats like that too because they give men the false notion that we are all like that. Damon was lucky I left him alive because he roofied my drink. I am on high alert at all times and never caught off guard. Never. He found himself drinking the roofied cocktail. He also found himself without a cock and balls when he woke up. I added a bit more poison to his drink since he was a big boy. I did not want him to prevent me from creating some more ball torture stories. He woke up today with his cock and balls severed from his body. I had his man bits laying on his pillow when he woke up just like turn down service at a fine hotel. I let him know in a note that I had a lovely night.
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