She must be a fat girl if the Chads ghosted on her instead of meeting up for casual sex. Now she is a born again virgin. And the next guy must wine and dine her. She gave a new Chad anal right off tinder. But the beta provider must wait 8-10 dates before a kiss.
I have several charms in my bag of magical fetishes that prevent me from succumbing from misogyny. The most valuable is, and will always be, nothing more than a simple mirror. That women hate me simply because I had the misfortune of being born especially ugly is exceptionally painful, without a doubt. It inspires despair and, yes, wrath. These are very dangerous familiar demons for any thing whose repulsiveness precludes the mercy of both God and Nature. If a member of one of our tribe acts out, hones his fangs and sharpens his horns, there won't be any female jurors who will be motivated to sympathy by our tears. We hideous things have to better than even the best men because we're afforded no latitude; the tears of a handsome man serve to accentuate his finest features while ours do nothing more than paint, in stark relief, our very worst. So the mirror is the monster's finest counselor, the good angel on his right side that provides the only argument able to overcome the whispers of the legion of devils swarming over his left. Meditating upon what I see in the mirror I can understand why women revile me, shudder at the prospect of looking at me let alone touching me. The anger never really dies, of course, but what would have otherwise been a fierce conflagration dulls and diminishes to a feeble glow. The hot ember buried in the heap of ash still burns to the touch, but it's infinitely easier to grasp and restrain than a lake of fire.
But as a revolting thing whose life relies upon his own restraint, sometimes the mirror isn't sufficient. So we find other spells to scribble in our threadbare grimoires, cheap little magic tricks we employ in extremis to slip the Devil's grasp. In that capacity, stories like this woman's are beyond valuable.
Reading this whore's pathetic little screed worked a strange kind of alchemy upon me. She was once a person who had allowed herself to be reduced to nothing more than a grunting, squealing pig. She traded a fragment of her soul, piece by piece, over the course of years, for the sensation of a cock in her cunt just so long as the cock in question belonged to a handsome man. It was for pleasure, sure, but part of that pleasure was derived from the delusion that these men actually wanted her for something other than a living sex toy, a fuck doll crafted from flesh and blood rather than cheap silicone.
Obviously stupid though she is, this woman has some dull understanding of her own plight. What little soul, what tiny fragment of humanity, she has remaining to her is rebelling against the empty fantasies she sought to purchase in exchange for her flesh. She will never be loved but desperately wants to be, no different in that respect than myself.
She'll succumb to her devils while I and my brothers never will, which is probably a fortunate thing considering that the infernal claiming a woman only results in her own destruction while the same happening to a man results in the ruin of others. She'll spread her ass while simultaneously praying for the love that will never come, weeping tears the entire time, while I and my kind restrain both our tears and our wrath having long ago recognized that love is impossible for things such as ourselves.
Perhaps the only grace God permits to His abominations is the ability to stand upright while they reign in Hell. Though not the greatest kindness, the filthiest of Pandemonium's ghettos will always be preferable to Paradise's most pristine sties.
There are circumstances in which the best of monsters pity the very worst of women. And the former have to treasure those moments, rare though they may be, even if they only afford the monster the fortitude to burn one more day.
Not much of a compensation for being condemned to come of age in Hell, I guess. But for the damned, it'll have to be enough.
. This princess got pumped and dumped by some Chad she met on Tinder. Call now for a chance to be her betabuxx!
