I needed some extra cash, so I went against my nature and took a temp job in an office. I am not the kind of girl who plays well with others. I run with scissors aimed at people. I don’t fit the look, and I certainly don’t play the part of a secretary. Very hard for me to fake like I enjoy people. But, it was a week gig for some pretty good money, so I thought I could suck it up. Wrong. People’s voices got on my nerves. The constant stupid ass banter about Facebook and Twitter and whose marriage was in trouble and who was eating where. Who the fuck cares? People take a shit and they post in on their social media pages so people will know when they took a dump and how much it weighed. People need a life. The water cooler losers needed snuffed or tortured, especially the men.
The male office asshats were sexually harassing the Goth temp. That shit needed more than a seminar in respecting women to nip in the bud so to speak. I’m a take matters into my own hands kind of bitch anyway. I Macgyvered a little crossbow with pens, pencils, rubber bands and clips. Mixed a little drug compound that would make my targets loopy, practiced my aim from under a desk, then shot up some testicles like a hunter. I’m an evil genius. The pen would not stay lodged in their worthless nut sack. It would be like a small prick sensation (appropriate). They’d adjust the balls, go to the parking garage or the men’s bathroom where I would follow them with my big ass knife. Men with small pricks who harass women don’t deserve their balls. There are lots of reasons to castrate men, but the truth for me is that it is fucking fun as hell. Really gets me wet.
Suddenly this temp job was looking up. Any time I can castrate a man, I’m in heaven. I love removing junk. I’d lurk at my desk like Wednesday Addams, shooting the balls of the male employees with my make shift crossbow, 
then stalk them to where they went next for some junk removal. When I remove the balls of a worthless piece of shit, it commands respect; it commands fear. They look me right in the eyes as I slice off their testicles, take a soldering pen to the spot to stop the bleeding and laugh. They cry, whimper, apologize, beg, but never rat me out. Too embarrassing to admit that the creepy ass temp chick took their balls because they fondled her inappropriately. I will take your junk too if you look at me funny. But they are on best behavior in the office afterwards because they know I will take their dick next. I have a collection of balls in a mason jar in my desk to remind me that no one messes with Venus, unless Venus wants to be messed.
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