Dirty talking women can be sick bitches too. I am not only foul mouthed, but I am a taboo thinker too. More than a thinker. I am a doer. I have no impulse control. I have learned how to control my impulses by making sure to just do sick things often. Once you get a taste for killing, force fucking and castration, you want more. I like castrating men. I love it actually. Men think they are entitled to women because they have a cock. That is not the case at all. I castrate men often. Sometimes, just for looking at me wrong. I met James at a Goth bar last week. I watched him trying to spike girls’ drinks. I switched drinks, so he took his own drugs. I am smarter than any horny man. I took him to my cabin in the woods to castrate him while he was still subdued. I thought about killing him. He deserved to die. He is a predator who preys on women. I decided to give him a dirty castration instead. I used a dirty knife, and I did not cauterize the wound. This way he would have an ugly scar where his balls once were to remind him of what he did. He woke up tied to a bed with a castration band on his balls. And my rusty blade, just waiting to cut off his balls. I told him who I was and what I was going to do and why. He pleaded for mercy, but he showed none to the women he drugged, why should I show him any? I did not waste any time. I cut those balls off and watched him bleed. He passed out a few times, but I slapped him awake. When I am castrating losers, I want them to feel the pain.
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