…but if it’s taking too long, just dress like a whore and climb in the back of the first windowless van you see.
Fortunately, I have a seemingly infinite supply of wrongs for you instead.
It will if you train it properly.
Bitch can’t even be set on fire, but can still be broken by a hard dick.
Daenerys Targaryen, you are all woman.
…but then, what else would you expect a whore to tell herself?
No.
More cushion for the pushin’.
God your blog makes me sick to my stomach but so fucking wet. What’s wrong with me.
First, it’s unnecessary to address me as “God.” I’m fine with “Sir,” “Your Eminence,” or even “Inigo Montoya.” But let’s not get caught up in the intricacies of address… you had a question.
What’s wrong with you? I can only guess, but it seems to me that you don’t know much of yourself, what you are. You don’t know your own libido, and what it craves. The sickness that churns in your gut even as your cunt grows sodden over the depravity I represent…? That’s a message from your body, telling you that you’ve lost the fucking plot.
Or put more succinctly: Surprise! You’re broken!
What if you give your all to a man and he leaves you?
misogynistowner-deactivated2017:
Then find another one and be better for him.
…or if you can’t handle that, simply refuse to be left behind. Make like the pile of shit you aspire to be and cling to his shoe. If you can compromise everything you are, he may at least slow down and let you catch up. In fact, if you can maintain a sufficient level of fevered desperation while existing entirely in a cold, distant orbit around him, I’ll bet that he’ll eventually end up paying attention to you out of habit or sheer boredom!
Just don’t make the mistake of trying to stand on your own two feet as a self-sufficient, capable woman. No one needs that.
…or I’m teaching her that nothing she can ever do will be good enough, but maybe if she just tries a little harder, I’ll finally love her back and make her feel like her existence matters.
Y’know, either way.