Cheap phone sex sadistics like to fuck to music too. My fucking soundtrack is darker than most. I love Ozzy Osborne. I am a fan of the old Ozzy. You know. The Ozzy Osborne who bit the head off a bat. When I play his music, I get in his frame of mind, and I want to bite things too. But guess what? I am not biting the head off a bat. I am biting the cock off a worthless man. I do not really fuck to music as much as I sexually mutilate and torture men to it. I am a nasty freak. Men are just distractions and entertainment for me. Cheap phone sex fun for me involves blaring Ozzy and Black Sabbath music while carving up a sorry excuse for a man. Jensen was a sorry excuse for a man. Not only did he have a small dick, but he was also a predator. I watched as he spiked several women’s drinks at the bar. He was the fucking bartender and hoping at last call some woman would be alone and in need of help getting home. I pretended to be that woman. He pretended to help me to my car, but he shoved me in the back seat of his car and drove me to my place. Perfect. He had my purse and my license, so he knew where I lived. He just had no idea who he was trying to force fuck. I let him carry me to my house. I acted all out of it. While I was “passed out” on my bed, I hit a button on the headboard that turned on the music. As soon as he heard the evil laughter of Ozzy before he breaks into Crazy Train, I leaped off my bed and started stabbing him. Just enough to disable him. I wanted to give him a cheap phone sex castration. It was a freebie for being a psychopathic predator. Normally, men pay me to take their twig and berries. But if you try to force fuck me or drug me, you get a free castration so you can never do it to another woman. With Ozzy fueling my rage, I chopped his balls off and bit off the head of his dick. Ozzy Osbourne always provides the soundtrack to my sick rage.
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