Sometimes, a knife was just too surgical. And sometimes, cutting a testicle off at the artery was just too painless.

Sometimes, you just need a hacksaw.

The most rusty, blunt one she could find, specifically. Normally she wouldn’t bother with the effort, a castration was a castration, but today in particular she just seemed to hate men more than normal. She went ahead and called two plumbers over like she always did, and before they even knew it, they were drugged, tied, gagged and scared in her basement. She slipped into her outfit, put on her makeup, a fresh coat of nail polish, and down she went. She always believed it was important to look as feminine as possible when mutilating male genitalia.

As usual they were relieved of their scrotums quickly, leaving their testes painfully dangling by their chords. Her first victim was a sizable man, muscular and significantly taller than her. She smiled, basking in that irony, as she wrapped her dainty hands around his exposed testicles, scratching at them with her nails. She rested her first victim’s balls on top of a wooden sawhorse, making sure to drag them along its rough splintered surface. She drew the hacksaw along the surface of his left testicular chord, but feeling sadistic, she glided it up and across the slimy surface of his ball, letting the teeth scratch and tear along the way, until the blade was resting firmly in the middle of the testicle. She pressed her sharp fingernails against the surface of his testicle, and all five nails penetrated into the ball with ease, holding it firmly in place as she slowly dragged the hacksaw back and forth across the surface of the testicle, laughing at her other victim as he watched in horror.

With each thrust of the hacksaw, there was a sickening wet tearing sound that echoed through the basement, which brought a spasm of pleasure to her vagina each time, even more so than the muffled bloodcurdling screaming emanating from her victim. Eventually the hacksaw had found its way through fully, grinding against the wood surface of the sawhorse. The testicle had split in two, and she removed the disembodied half, leaving the internal anatomy of the testicle exposed. She firmly grabbed it with one hand, squeezing it slightly to see the insides bulge out and let the fluids run out onto her hand. She poked and prodded at the lobules with her nails, laughing with sadistic curiosity as she cruelly stirred the insides around, scratching and scraping the delicate tubes and fibers while her freshly painted nails left remnants of nail polish all over the mush. Her victim had gone almost entirely limp, sweating profusely, unable to scream anymore as she continued to tear out innards. He was conscious solely because of the drugs she had given him intravenously, and was still able to feel every ounce of suffering she was delivering to him. She scraped out the testicular mush from under her nails, leaving the partially hollowed out testicle on the sawhorse as she picked up the hacksaw again, shifting her focus to the remaining testicle.

Her second victim was begging and pleading, or attempting to through his gag, watching her as she made the first few thrusts with the hacksaw into the other man’s testicle. She looked over towards him with a look of sarcastic pity, placing her left hand over her mouth, and in her most sadistic voice,

“Can you just take it like a man?”