My name is Thecia. I’m a pipeline engineer but I’m a castratrix on the side. I live in Dallas, but I work in LA and NJ often. I’ve de-balled over 130 men and I’m pretty proud of it. The men that I’ve nutted mostly deserved it. I’m 5’7” about 120 pounds and I have light brown hair.

After a long day working in a NJ refinery as a consulting engineer, I was ready for a glass of wine and a light dinner. My answering machine had different ideas. I received a call from Dr. Pann. Dr. Pann is a wonderful woman who runs a woman’s advocacy group. They make money with porn sites for women and they spend it on woman’s shelters and the like. She had a project for me. Their “revenge” committee had targeted a bunch of men who had in some way done violent things to women. These things ranged from severe beatings to rape. For some reason the normal authorities could not deal with these. She and I would. Her organization had apprehended and illegally imprisoned about thirty of these pervs. It would be my job to decide their punishment.

I had plenty of time due me at work, so I took a week off and my assistant Jill and I were whisked by private jet to Colorado, where the secret compound was located. Dr. Pann picked us up at the private airfield and we drove for about 20 minutes.

The ranch gate opened into a long driveway that terminated at a farm house and barn complex. This was obviously a working ranch, with its own feed growing area. There was a gravel driveway that led to a pair of dirt covered buildings. The Dr. Pann pulled the Hummer into the second building. We walked into an underground tunnel that terminated in the other building. It looked like a lab with offices and work spaces. In the lower level we found a series of cells, a gym, an office and an operating room. There were about thirty men in the cells.

I was given a set of case files to ponder before my task of the following day. Dr. Pann suggested that all of the subjects should lose their balls unless I found some strong reason why they should not. I was also to decide the amount of pain that each man would feel during his castration.

The following morning about fifteen men were led into the waiting room, they were guarded by six of the most powerful women I’d ever seen. Each was armed with a whip and a taser. The men were bound hand and foot and each had a hospital robe on.

I had already decided that all of them would get a last orgasm, just so they would feel the pleasure that they would never have again. Jill would tend to that. Jill is taller then me and beautiful. She’s about 5’10’ with blonde hair and enhanced boobs. I don’t think any man has ever seen her face, their eyes seem to be glued to her 40 double D’s.

The first man was brought in, his folder said that he had beaten his girlfriend so badly that she would never walk again. A no brainer for me. Jill wore a bikini as she jerked him off. His equipment was average. After a very few minutes his load spurted straight up and the game was afoot. I did not plan a neat job, they were all prepped so I just grabbed his balls, pulled them away from his body and sliced both sides of his sack. There was no “local” involved, he would feel all the pain. I put his exposed nuts on the table and stated, “so your girlfriend will never walk again, does that make you feel good, SCUMBAG!” With that I hefted the glass paperweight I had brought and smashed his right ball into pulp. He passed out but we revived him. His left ball disintegrated under the same, now bloody weight. Messy but a fun thing.

The next man was there for date rape, not as severe in my mind, but still a nutting offense. I pulled his much bigger nuts away from his body and sliced the sack. They snipped off quite easily, as they always do. This time as the guard wheeled the gurney through the waiting room, Jill followed holding the severed orbs by their cords high over the patient as a message to the next in line. It was as if she won them and was showing them off.

After the fifth one I stopped reading the folders. I remembered an old Special Forces t shirt I had once seen. The message on the shirt was “Kill em all, Let God Sort Them Out.” That became my plan. I popped each set out, smashed them and hacked them off. The following day the second wave of men were brought in and the game began anew. 16 men lost their balls in a blur.

One touched a nerve on me. He was ushered in the room like the others. He didn’t have the defiant look or the defeated look that most had. He was baby faced and innocent looking. His name was Christopher, he was about six two with a slight bit of flab over muscle. His blue eyes and short brown hair belied the “rapist” history. He was not over twenty years old. He looked at me and in an almost inaudible tone said, “I didn’t do it, please believe me.” For some reason I wanted to believe him. As I had total say over what happened, I decided to re-read his file. As Jill was sucking on his imposing cock (It was six and a half to seven inches and bent slightly to the left, the most memorable thing was his huge helmet) he was actually blushing. This guy was not the kind you would expect to be a sex offender. His file said that he had used a date rape drug on two 17 year old sisters. I watched him buck violently as his balls tightened and his big cock shot gobs of thick rich cum into Jill’s mouth. I looked into his blue eyes and saw that he was crying. He was secured to the table and his big balls were right in front of me. His right nut was as big as they get, but, his left one was average, or even a little smaller than average. Decision time, would these beautiful gonads fall into my hand dead, or would I spare them. I held his whole shaved nutsack in one hand and my scalpel in the other. I pulled the weighty set away from his body. I had a dizzy feeling for a second, I actually had a fleeting thought of that huge dickhead opening my inner pussy lips..That thought faded as I placed the scalpel on the neck of his sack. I hesitated for a second then I pulled the razor-sharp blade hard across the flesh. At first there was just a thin crimson line then his ball filled sack fell away with a sudden spurt of blood. I guess I had made my decision. I have since made a tanned supple leather change purse from the sack for Dr. Pann and another set of sun dried earrings from his nuts, a gift for my friend Lesli.

The last (sixteenth) man in today’s line was maybe 270 pounds and over six five. It took all four of the powerful guards to drag him into the room. I decided to read his folder as Jill was working a load out of him. He had beaten his girlfriend and smashed her stomach killing her baby. I was really going to like this one. Jill had his load shooting and it ran down his still pulsing cock and onto his ball sack. I sliced his cum covered sack and instantly the still attached balls were in my gloved hand. Using a scalpel I took a tiny chunk out of his right ball. I cut another piece and then another and another until he passed out. We revived and the game continued. It took almost ten minutes to dissect his still living testicle. I told him, “You’re brave enough to beat a pregnant woman you should be brave enough to take a little pain.”

Pieces of his left ball joined the bloody mess on the table. When the second ball was history I continued up his sperm ducts, one tiny piece at a time. When they wheeled him out he was sobbing like a baby.

All of the ball meat from thirty one big sets was fed to the pigs on the ranch. The men were taken to separate and distant towns where they were dumped into the seedy neighborhoods.

Dr. Pann, Jill and I stopped on the way back to Montrose for a sandwich. I had a New York Ruben (in Colorado?” and Dr. Pann had a toasted cheese sandwich with tomato and raw onion under the cheese and Jill had tuna wrap. It all hit the spot, nutting makes women hungry.

The Gulfstream V took me smoothly back to my home in Dallas in no time and I finally got my glass of wine, albeit in a different state then where I started. .

Respectfully submitted

Thecia