My name is Thecia, I’m a 31 year old underground cutter. I’m also an engineer who works at various oil refineries around the world.

I woke on a Tuesday morning to a 4 AM phone call from an old and intoxicated boy friend. After putting him in his place I returned to a furtive sleep until my six o’clock alarm. I had an early morning pressure test on several miles of new refinery pipeline. A successful test would mean a big bonus for me. There were thousands of welds and hundreds of flanges, so a perfect test on the first try was not likely. I stopped for my morning coffee, it turned out to be cold and made wrong. The pipeline test failed in a slew of places. It was not a good day.

On the way home from work I stopped at the supermarket to pick up a few things. On my way out of the store I saw a pickup truck back out of a spot and drag its bumper down the length of my car, causing a deep cut from the front fender to the start of the back door. The truck just drove away. I got the license number and took note or the unique decal in the back window.

I started to call 911 when my evil side popped up, I could make this day better yet.

I learned from one of my cop friends that he was a low life petty criminal and a town bully.

He lived in a nearby town at 23 Spooner Street (ironically the same address as Peter Griffin)

He opened the door and asked of me “What do you want?” I told him that he hit my car and I wanted him to stand up and take care of it.

His reply was, “Fuck you cunt!” as he tried to slam the door. My taser was a little quicker than he was and in a nanosecond he was writhing on the floor in tears. From the corner of my eye I spotted a battle scarred pit bull coming at me. The taser had recharged and it put the dog on the floor with his master. I hog tied the dog and cuffed the man before the affects wore off.

I cut the man’s clothes off to reveal a pretty impressive package, a cock that was maybe a very thick eight inches and balls the size of lemons.

With practiced ease I put an elastrator band over his nuts and looped my monofilament fishing line around his sack just below the band. He couldn’t see what I was doing, but he knew it wasn’t a good thing. He said, “I’m going to kill you, you fucking cunt.” I told him that somehow I didn’t think he would have the balls to do that. I pulled the improvised wooden handles of my garrote and in a flash his big balls bounced onto the seventies era shag rug. He began to scream, “My Balls! My Balls.” but it was too late, his big nuts were mine.

The pit bull was struggling mightily against his bonds. He was obviously used in the fight ring. I wouldn’t put up with that either. Using exactly the same method his canine nuts fell on the same outdated shag rug.

The day turned out to be not so bad after all. I had to pay for my own car repairs, but it was worth it.

I stopped at a Greek diner on the way home and had a little spinach pie. It hit the spot. Nutting always makes me hungry.

Respectfully submitted,

Thecia

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