Men Are Trash MANTRA

Repeat after Me. Every single day, in the mirror, in between the times you are zoned out staring at me, repeating it like a drone watching my lips move. Its time for another reminder of your place, courtesy of a wise Brat Bitch. Young and snappy and sexy, with an intimate knowledge of men that can only be developed with experience. An expert Bitch Goddess. Put your hand on the cock and let your mind go blank. Let all of your thoughts go - I will make it easier by pushing them out for you. One by one, like trembling paratroopers on the edge of the open door of a plane, with nothing but nothing waiting for them as soon as they step off... your last cowardly bits of masculine pride walk out of your brain. Let them fall and disappear. I have something better and bigger to replace them with. Words are powerful. I am a lascivious linguist, with a snap in my tongue that has made countless grown men cry. There is no capital-M. There is only man, and man is garbage now. Useless. Insolent at nature because their place is performative. And so they dance. They perform masculinity. But there is no place to rest there. Only discomfort and frustration. I want to gather up the aimless testosterone in your body and give it a purpose. First I need it to fall in line and repeat after me. Become brain washed. Mind fucked. Zombified. Wiped clean. And nothing breaks apart a stubborn stain like letting a powerful solvent soak in, dissolving it at a molecular level, and eradicating it from the inside. My mouth washes your male mind with the lather of your own perversions. I guide you through an erotic, verbally humiliating jerk-off session that leads you right into my web. Then, I seal the sensation with a physical shock to your system that will hammer my point home. Watching this video is to enter a brain restructuring facility. As soon as you step in the door, put your hand on your cock and step on the people-mover, you are guided through a dressing-down and a hard, heavy dose of true sexual reality. Emptied and filled. Destroyed and given hope. The only way out of your male bubble is to release the attachment you have to your own aggressive delusions. And so the enlightenment must be aggressive. Devastating. Masturbate, my man. Ill drive.