It’s A Perfect Night To Slip Into Something More Comfortable, Like The Darkness

Drip.

Next

Similar to one I’ve posted recently - but with additional thoughts:

The next woman I fuck:

I want her to be scared of me.

I want her to not trust me an inch.

I want her to think I might lose control at any moment, and start strangling her.

I want her to go to a bar with me, and leave her drink unattended.

I want her to know that there’s absolutely zero chance of me informing her if a man pops something in her drink.

I want her to think that there’s a genuine chance that she might pass out and wake up being raped by strangers, while I laugh at her and spit in her face.

I don’t really want her to like it. In fact, I hope she actively hates it.

I want her to cry.

I want her to call out for her dad.

I want her to ask me to stop, or slow down, or get her some water, and know that I’m going to respond to all and any of her requests by hitting her.

I want a woman who will go on film beforehand giving very explicit consent to all of the above.

Reblog if ur a rotting, soulless, corpse with an overactive sex drive