A Dirty Mess

It's time to cut your ball.

My Dearest,

Weeks that I’ve been trying to make sense of what I do. That was a mistake. Life has no meaning. I’m just living it to the fullest until the end. Why should art have more meaning than the feelings it conveys?

In the darkness of my art studio, I’m experimenting a lot. I think I should show more of my attempts, this will be my Summer series, every week until September. I’ll send you an experiment straight from the studio.

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The monster inside us

Surgical procedures handbook.

Men have monsters between their legs and shit in their head. I returned to the Fuck Factory. It was closed for two years. Maybe three. It is a second location in the wood. A cabin who goes by the name of the Dark Lodge.

Dark Lodge, circa 2022.

Reopen. The place is pretty much the way I left it. The main pump and compressor are still running. Same goes for the electric saw. This dark spot seems to appear out of nowhere. Strange, hypnotic, to say the least.

Inside the dark lodge.

There’s always a bunch of weirdos in my messages who want me to cut the shit out of them. “Please, goddess, come get me, do whatever you want. I have no limits.” They’d better be careful what they wish for.

Sissy surgical experiment.

I chose one out of anger. The most fragile, the cutest. I asked him, her, to meet me completely naked by the side of the road leading to the woods. Plan your getaway for the weekend. Get ready. And let’s fuck!

Here is your ball.

I cut off his ball. Only one. Poor kid. A single ball hanging from a tiny penis. Goddess couldn’t help but play dirty with you. It was damn satisfying. I got a gallon of ointment. He was thrashing around like a pig. Fear and pain.

Gotta gallon?

That’s all, that’s the story. No ball tonight. Party is over. See you next week.
Love always, Sissi.