My name is Thecia, I’m a 31 year old underground cutter. I’m also a full time engineer. I travel a great deal for both jobs. I spend a lot of time in New Jersey at a major oil company plant.

I met a young woman who also worked there, I’ll call her Anita, who became friendly with me. We would have lunch together once in a while and an occasional “happy hour” drink after work.

Anita lived about ten minutes from the plant in a garden apartment. I had offered her a shoot from one of my plants and drove over to give the already potted shoot to her. When I got to her door I heard loud voices and the unmistakable sound of an open handed slap. The door was ajar so I pushed it a little bit. Through a second door I saw Anita with her blouse torn half way off and her boyfriend Stan continually slapping her. Her face and shoulders were bruised and she was crying.

Without much thought on my part, I slammed the clay flower pot into the side of his head. He fell to the floor like a sack of flour. Anita just sat and wept, while I tore the sheets off of her bed and bound him securely to the bed posts and to a radiator. I used a pillow case to gag him.

I told Anita to call the police, but she just shook her head and said through her tears, “He loves me, he doesn’t mean it!” She told me that he got like this whenever he was drunk, he would beat her, rape here and then apologize in the morning.

With that I told her to leave and that I would “fix” him.

When he regained consciousness, he was face to face with his worst nightmare, although he didn’t know that part yet.

He fought with his bindings and began to threaten me and call me names. I’ve been called, “cunt” and “bitch” many times before, so I didn’t get too upset. As to the threats, I don’t think he’ll have the balls to do anything about it later.

Using a kitchen knife (I didn’t have my kit with me.) I cut the jeans from his body along with his boxer underwear. I suddenly knew what Anita saw in him. A package like Adonis, a cock that was eight plus inches and nice full balls.

I held that huge cock and gently began to stroke it, it rose to the occasion. I asked him if this was what Anita did with him and he nodded. “Do you like it?” I asked, again he nodded.

I told him that I just wanted him to know what it felt like, he gave me a puzzled look, but he was smiling.

I put my lips over his huge helmet and began to blow him. He was moaning with pleasure now. Long before he was ready to cum, I rose to my knees and straddled his heavy meat puppet. It was huge, I felt it open, first my outer lips and then the inner ones. I felt as each inch spread my small pussy. I was so wet that it slipped in without strain. I rode him for a little while until I could tell he was close. I got off and put my lips to it again. When he came it was a surprise, as was the volume. Much more that I expected, I didn’t try to swallow, but kept most of his thick hot cum in my mouth. A lot, of course, dribbled out.

I crawled up and spit the load full in his face. Some even went into his open mouth and he choked and tried to spit it out.

There was an oak cutting board behind the sink, it was shaped like a pig. So fitting I thought.

I placed the cutting board between his legs and under his package.

I had raised heel shoes on, not high heels but flat raised ones. His big balls looked so comfortable and rested on the board that I almost felt bad when I slammed my heel down on his right nut. My full one hundred and twenty five pounds went onto it. The Ball popped with a wet sickening sound, only his muffled screams were louder. I looked into his terrified eyes and said that I might just spare his second ball, so he could still have a sex life and maybe have children some day. That being said, I drove my heel into his left gonad. It popped like the first, maybe the splat was a little softer, but it was satisfying anyway.

I found the bottle of rum that he had been drinking and forced him to drink a few more ounces. I poured some on his clothes and he smelled like more of a drunk than he already was. Using the kitchen knife, I punched a hole in the bottom of his scrotum to allow fluids to escape the swollen sack.

Anita’s apartment faces away from the others and his car was fifteen feet from her door. I helped (half carried) him to his car. I told him to drive to the hospital that was only about two miles away. I also told him that if he ever bothered Anita again or told what happened I would draw and quarter his dick.

Anita recovered and I never saw Stan again. It made the papers as a gay mutilation.

On the way home I stopped at Murph’s and had a Maryland crab cake dinner with a nice white wine to wash it down.

Cutting always makes me hungry.

Respectfully Submitted.

Thecia