The Serpent Incarnated

To play with a man’s heart

Their specialty

But if you think enough

It is man’s fault

For being vulnerable and exposing himself to a female presence

Some sort of neediness

 

Because they can’t handle a naked woman

Wide eyes, smooth skin, attractive eyebrows, and voluptuous lips

Starring at the man, standing next to them

The ultimate curse, an offering from hell bellow

 

Amazed by the charm he hears her bewitching voice only to wander off track

To places he would never go to

Inside his mind that is

The childish need for comfort, validation, and recognition of might by the other gender

 

At some point he has no control of his thoughts

His soul has been already possessed by her touch, by how soft her ass cheeks are, and by how cool her breast feels like pressed against his

 

Before he knows it his captive slave has been released by his second nature

Lustful desires of man are taking the lead, worshipping every inch of her fleshly temple

Once he wakes up before dawn, noticing her arm around his waist he thinks to himself, what have I done, what is this, I don’t recognize myself anymore

In morning, one look at her eyes, stops all his inner resistance to her magick

In times of absence of the other

Man tries his best to come back to his past self, being the man he is, always cautious of his own weakness to be taken advantage of, does his best to stay on protocol, to never give in to their spells

But as soon as she comes back and says I have missed you

He knows he has already lost the battle of will

He knows he is hers again and no matter how hard he tries to snap out of it, all that there is to it, all what was left, is for her to come back, to meet him, to touch him, to look at his tearful eyes and whisper, you are mine

In that moment he knows he is doomed

He has already succumbed to her otherworldly power

As time passes by he finds himself following her after she leaves his bed, stalking her whereabouts, taking count of how many men she flirts with, of how many she offers her body to

Trying so hard to gather up his lost strength, staying on edge, bottling up his anger in order to face her, resisting at his best the conclusion that it is a lost cause

 

As soon as she comes back at night he finds no will to cut the cord straight

 

And when she is not around he is unable find his way to sleep

Looking at his own weakness he hates himself more

 

Thinking of the day she will find another man, that day would be the start of a living hell, she will ignore his sight whenever fate randomly gathers them at crossroads, she will ignore him and he will sink deep down his darkness

 

He is no man no more

Only a weakling, a shadow, a shell of his former self,

He exists no more

 

 

Self

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Author: Venusian Cenobite

Do not read me if you get easily offended. Any antisocial material published under this blog is fictional and should not be taken seriously.

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