Picture this. A provincial, parochial countryside village of old traditions, population somewhere between 1500 and 2000. The people here choose to live by these rules, couldn't imagine living any other way. And as a man, it's customary for you to greet all the cailins with a kiss on the cheek and a firm slap on the bottom. Because they're girls, they like the men to let them know they're pretty. So your advances are not just welcome, but it would be ungentlemanly not to show them.
Also, this is a dairy village. So all the girls are raised early on lots of milk, making your village notorious for women with hyperdeveloped feminine assets. Bouncing tiddies and peach-shapes asses coming out of their beer-soaked dirndls. Also your village produces a lot of beer, which the women also like. Contributing to breast development.
However, you must remain incel. You can never marry, you can never date. And you can never have sex. Yes, you can grope and fondle and motorboat, but that's just being playful. You can even massage a lady's breasts when they're feeling tender. But no woman shall lay hands or even eyes on your penis. But that it be clothed with pants. You might get away, once or twice, with grabbing a woman from behind and grinding into her ass. But only one or two pumps. She'll laugh and call you a dirty bastard, because you're still just being playful. But never hump to completion under any circumstances. Spill thy seed, then it's rape. Also, no lap dances. Your village obviously has no strip clubs. But you can invite women to harmlessly sit on your lap. Long as you don't cum. And you can watch saucy barmaids and milkmaids dance sprightly jigs in times of merrymaking. But the closest to sex you can ever hope for is beating your dick in your private moments.
You might be thinking "But don't traditional gender roles mean my character as a provider outweighs my looks?" That was always only part of the equation. It falls to a man to earn a lady's hand. And it falls to a lady to choose a suitor at her discretion. And also her parents, usually. And compared to the Chads of the village, you just aren't marriage material. You're fun and clever, like an elf or a leprechaun.
BONUS STAT: If it matters, you aren't called an "incel." What you are is a "bachelor." With an "eye for beauty." That's why you never marry. It's assumed you'd rather stay unfettered. Trading sex for being an admirer of all the village's women.
Also, this is a dairy village. So all the girls are raised early on lots of milk, making your village notorious for women with hyperdeveloped feminine assets. Bouncing tiddies and peach-shapes asses coming out of their beer-soaked dirndls. Also your village produces a lot of beer, which the women also like. Contributing to breast development.
However, you must remain incel. You can never marry, you can never date. And you can never have sex. Yes, you can grope and fondle and motorboat, but that's just being playful. You can even massage a lady's breasts when they're feeling tender. But no woman shall lay hands or even eyes on your penis. But that it be clothed with pants. You might get away, once or twice, with grabbing a woman from behind and grinding into her ass. But only one or two pumps. She'll laugh and call you a dirty bastard, because you're still just being playful. But never hump to completion under any circumstances. Spill thy seed, then it's rape. Also, no lap dances. Your village obviously has no strip clubs. But you can invite women to harmlessly sit on your lap. Long as you don't cum. And you can watch saucy barmaids and milkmaids dance sprightly jigs in times of merrymaking. But the closest to sex you can ever hope for is beating your dick in your private moments.
You might be thinking "But don't traditional gender roles mean my character as a provider outweighs my looks?" That was always only part of the equation. It falls to a man to earn a lady's hand. And it falls to a lady to choose a suitor at her discretion. And also her parents, usually. And compared to the Chads of the village, you just aren't marriage material. You're fun and clever, like an elf or a leprechaun.
BONUS STAT: If it matters, you aren't called an "incel." What you are is a "bachelor." With an "eye for beauty." That's why you never marry. It's assumed you'd rather stay unfettered. Trading sex for being an admirer of all the village's women.
