My name is Thecia, I’m a 31 year old underground “Cutter.” I’ve been de-balling men for over seven years now, that equates to over 100 sets of balls. I’m an engineer by day and I often work as a consultant in oil refineries in New Jersey.

There is a scientist in Canada who has helped me in the past. He is one of the few people in the world who knows me as both an engineer and a cutter. Antoine introduced me to a man in NJ who had a love/hate thing going with his balls. He loved sex but hated what he did to women and hated his balls.

I met with him to discuss castrating him. He was hard to figure, he was both domme and sub depending on his mood.

His name was Jack, he was a large man with a muscled figure and a ready smile. We had dinner and I genuinely liked him.

Jack did not live far from my occasional work place in NJ and I saw him a few times.

I sometimes called him “Lifto” because he would lift heavy weights with a rope tied to his big balls. I had seen him lift a 45 lb. barbell weight. It hurt him like hell, but he did it. I’ve been fascinated with balls since I was a little girl, so it was of interest to me.

He came to me with a proposal, he wanted me to have sex with him, and if it didn’t please me, or even if I was just in a bad mood, I was to take his nuts. He would pay me my usual castration fee up front and I would keep the money, but not bank it, until I actually did the deed.

I’m a sucker for intrigue and I took the challenge. We had drinks at his “Side” apartment and ended up watching the fireplace from his couch. He slid over and kissed me that started my motor running. I don’t “turn on” that easy, but the idea of reaping his big nuts excited me. I had seen pictures of his package so I wasn’t surprised when I un-wrapped the eight incher with the lemon sized balls attached. He was definitely worth the price of admission. His tongue was magic and his bed manner was as good as it gets. After a long lovemaking session, like all men he began to fall asleep. Per our agreement I secured him to the metal bed frame and wrapped a garrote around his big nutsack. I placed the stack of bills that was his castration payment on the night stand and held the wooden handles of the piano wire implement and began to tighten. I smiled and dropped the tool. His balls would live, at least for today.

This went on for several months, each time I worked in NJ I would visit Jack. I didn’t do it for the sex, but for the mystery. At the beginning of each session I honestly didn’t know if he would have his balls when I left, of course he didn’t know either.

On one occasion I used an elastrator and cut the band off at the last minute, another time I actually opened his sack and popped a ball out before sewing him up again.

It was a spring evening and we went out to dinner and finished the night with a fuckfest. This time I had a large curved tree branch lopper. I caressed his spent balls and slipped them into the jaws of the big tool. As I partially closed them his big cock jumped to life as it always did when I threatened his balls. I brought the handles closer together until there was actual pressure. Before blood was drawn I opened the handles. He sighed in relief or disappointment, I don’t know which. I moved my weight as though to get up, but instead I slammed the handles together. He screamed as his huge balls hit the hardwood floor with a loud plop. They fell out of the severed sack and rolled a foot or so before coming to a stop.

Jack passed out and I took the money off of the bedstand, pocketed it and dropped both balls and his sack into a waiting peanut butter jar.

Only then did I sew up his gaping wound. Jack got his wish and a little fantasy play too.

On my way home, even though I had eaten a meal with jack, I stopped at Moby’s, a bar near the refinery and had a hamburger. Something about cutting off a big set of balls makes me very hungry.

Respectfully Submitted,

Thecia