God, how I want to kill a man.
How I want to trick him… to use the things he wants to take advantage of… to use them against him.
I want to get a man in my bed. I want to get him underneath me. Feel his hips pressing into mine like I am the only form of salvation he could need.
I want to use him. I want to hurt him.
I want to kill him… men look pretty covered in blood.
Men look gorgeous when they play the fool.
To make a fool of man is a very beautiful thing, you know. I’ve done it a few times — well, not to completion.
I like to hurt men.
I like to hit them… Mm, men look so sweet when they’ve got their hands covering that dumb little head of theirs.
I like to make them cry and sob and beg for me to stop. They’ll do anything if I just stop.
It doesn’t feel good to be on that side, does it, pup?
Poor. Fucking. You.
Pity does not mean much. Not unless you are human.
Men are not human. Men are toys. Men are… accessories.
Jesus Christ, how I want to kill a man..
