“Fear this, you little rat’s ass!” I said, tightening my grip on the kid’s fuzzy scrotum and twisting my wrist slightly. His beardless face, covered with teenage acne, is contorted into a grimace of pain and he is only able whimper like an injured puppy. He is typical of a lot of the kids I see these days. Spiked hair dyed an unnatural color, gold tongue stud, matching jewelry in his ear lobe and eyebrow, and backwards facing hat with the trademark ‘No Fear!’ logo. He had taken his rebellion against the establishment one step farther by having the same statement of his stupidity tattooed on his arm right below the encircling strand of barbed wire that seems to be in fashion these days. I kind of expected to see some more jewelry or artist work on his cock or bag, but my modifications down there will be the first for him.

I get a laugh out of kids with garish tattoos. Most of them will someday be parents and I’d like to see how their own kids respond to their parental advice about doing stupid things. Parenthood will not be an option for this little fucker, however. He has at best only a few more minutes of masculinity left before I castrate him, and to make sure he knows what is going to happen I take my knife and placed it on the table in front of him.

Although I don’t respect their weirdness I don’t categorically dislike kids like this one, and so long as they don’t do anything to piss me off I just sort of ignore them. This one made some major mistakes, however, and he is now about to pay. His first mistake was in fucking my daughter, and although he claims she begged him to do it, he still should have known better that to screw around with a cop’s daughter. His second mistake came after the fact when he loudly bragged about how even though she was a virgin she was still a not bad fuck. I took offence to that statement. His third, and worst mistake was in videotaping his conquest. That was kind of like rubbing salt in my wounds and was the deciding factor in his fate. My daughter has some explaining to do but that will come a little later. My first order of business is to deal with the problem at hand.

I have never nutted a guy and I’m not sure of the best procedure. I considered tying him face down to the table or bent over the edge so I could cut him from behind, but I decided I wanted to see the look on his face when he lost his manhood and I also wanted him to be able for him to see his balls as I cut them off, so he is tied face up on the table, legs spread wide. I’m not worried about him identifying me, as I an officially several hundred miles away in the company of several of my colleagues who will all vouch for my presence. Also, as Chief of Detectives it will be my duty to investigate this assault, or what ever they want to call it, and I won’t have any trouble shifting the focus of the investigation elsewhere.

“It’s time, asshole,” I tell him, starting the video camera and picking up the knife. “I hear you really liked my daughter. I’ll show her the video someday.” I debated on rather to slice his bag open and excise his testicles individually, or rather to just cut the whole nut sack off, balls and all, in one clean slice. Either way I knew there would be lots of blood but I figured an anonymous call to the ambulance would get him medical attention before he bled out. I also thought about using a tourniquet so he could have several hours of agony watching his balls turn black and die, and I also considered crushing them with a couple of bricks, but there seemed to be a visceral satisfaction in just grabbing them in my hand and slicing them off.

His balls are large and they completely fill my hand. He is quite the little stud, temporarily that is. Although balls this big usually hang low his are now tucked up tight in fear and it takes a lot of effort to bring them away from his body. His cock has shriveled to a fraction of its normal flaccid size and seems totally insignificant compared to the engorged tool shown on the video penetrating my daughter. He has regained his voice by now and is pleading with me, offering me everything he has and even stuff he obviously doesn’t have if I will only let him loose. As the knife gets closer he changes tactics and tries to threaten me, something you never do to a cop. The sudden smell of his shit fills the room the instant the knife blade touches the tender skin of his scrotum. He has shit himself even though the position he is in makes it seem impossible.

I pause for a few seconds and pull even harder on his balls, lifting him clear of the table and the mess he had made. A slow steady slice, and a long, penetrating scream, and it is over. He now is a eunuch, nutless and insignificant, wallowing in a pile of his own shit. I release his bonds and suggest that he use his cell phone to call 911.

“Have a nice day, Sir,” I tell him as I pack up the video equipment and go out the door into the night. I throw his severed nuts over the fence to the neighbor’s yapping dog, knowing he will enjoy them almost as much as the kid enjoyed owning them, and almost as much as I enjoyed taking them.