The solution has been staring me in the face for a long time. A very long time. I’ve tried charm, I tried nice, but the problem was never those things. The problem was force.
I don’t need to charm.
I don’t need to be nice.
I need to submit women. Every one.
Aggression. Sternness. Control.
I need to channel the anger, the aggression, and be their master. I need to see them on their knees. I need them to want to tattoo my name in their skin. I need them to crave me.
I feel control when I control them. I feel like myself when I look at them as slaves, not women.
The next step: control.
The great spiritual fulfillment.
Master. Me. No one else.
End of line.