drummersdick:

She thinks that bleaching her hair, getting inch-long nails painted, big round bolt-on breast implants, collagen lips and a trashy form-fitted leopard-print minidress is subversive and feminist. She thinks she’s taking men’s desires and pushing them to a grotesque extreme to fight back against the objectification of women’s bodies, gilding the lily so men would question their desire to take and use and control women. 

And when she took the workshop on women’s studies at the new university, she proudly proclaimed this to all assembled. The hairy-legged political lesbians didn’t seem convinced that she wasn’t a bimbo rationalizing her submission to men’s rules. The bratty bisexuals seemed uncomfortable. A few people looked thoughtful. The pussy-whipped cucks in the class all agreed with her and disagreed with her, depending on which woman had spoken last. 

The five guys in the back of the room just stared. And at the end of the session they asked her to join their study group. They wound up back at her place because miraculously all five of their homes were being fumigated at the same time. 

She casually mentioned that it was nice but unusual to see guys like these in a gender studies workshop. The guy in the polo shirt did not pause from his ogling of her body when he reminded her that men were just as much victims of rape culture, since they were the ones being brainwashed to ignore women’s autonomy. The one in the hoodie nodded and pointed out that men like them were just the helpless tools that the patriarchy used to keep women scared and oppressed. The guy in the blazer shook his head sadly and proclaimed that it was such a shame that even if Not All Men were rapists, that Yes All Women were in danger of rape all day long. And that trying to protect a woman from rape just meant that some other woman would get raped in her place. The man in the tanktop pointed out that even though men could stop rape, it was hard because they were all conditioned by the rape culture. But, said the one in the blazer, there was a way that women could stop rape too. After all, Consent Is Sexy.

So these five helpless victims of rape culture ripped her dress, stretched her holes, yanked her hair, spat in her mouth, and took plenty of pictures of her naked, fuck-drunk cum-slathered face while she did her part to stop rape by wildly yelling her affirmative consent and begging for more while they cockslapped her face and called her a filthy fucking whore. 

Then they congratulated her on subverting the patriarchal paradigm and headed out, looking forward to next week’s workshop.

Like I’d ever fuck a guy who wore polo shirts.