I wake up early, like I always do. I don’t consider myself lazy. My grades aren’t terrible. My teachers like me. My parents love me. So I should be happy, right?
But I’m not.
And it’s because of one thing: women.
I don’t understand what’s wrong with them. They open their legs for guys who don’t care about them, while “nice guys” like me — who actually care — get ignored. Well, I don’t care anymore. In fact, I hate them now. These modern women and girls are stupid. All except Mom, of course. And maybe my aunts.
All these thoughts swirl in my head while I’m getting ready for school.
“Rod!” Mom calls from the kitchen. “You’re not saying goodbye?”
“Oh, sorry. I was in a hurry,” I say — a lame excuse. But she just smiles, and I leave.
---
“You refused, right?”
“Y-yes!”
“She really boldly proposed… that to you?”
“Y-yes… I guess we’re… you know… I think our reputation is threatened. I feel like it’s a prank. I really don’t want this right now… Who would be stupid enough to fall for this anyway? They c-can’t be serious…!”
I barely talk to other students, so I try to ignore the two guys whispering nearby. But curiosity wins.
“I don’t wanna sound like someone who can’t mind his own business, but what on earth can make you stutter like that, dude?” I ask.
They both turn their heads, startled. Yeah, that was bold of me, but I don’t care. I’m angry at the world. The stuttering one is about to answer, but the professor walks in. Philosophy is on the menu. Looks like I’ll have to wait two hours to know what’s going on.
After class, I gather my things, drop my pen, bend down to pick it up, and when I look up, the two nerdy guys are already at the door. What the hell? Are they trying to escape me? Not on my watch. I sprint like Usain Bolt, catch up to them, and re-ask my question.
“Nothing important, dude!” says Ned — Ned the nerd, apparently.
I turn to his partner. “And you? Won’t you tell me about the girl making you stutter like that?”
“What makes you think—?”
“Come on. I heard you earlier: ‘She really proposed that to you too?’ And I can’t tell if you’re talking about hookers catcalling you or a drug dealer.”
Stuart — that’s his name — looks even fatter when he’s confused. He glances at Ned, who cuts me off:
“That’s none of your business. We’re done talking!”
---
The next day, I go to the library and see the two “secret agents.” But this time they’re with two other guys: Marcus Arton — the tallest guy on campus, who should’ve gone into basketball — and Larry Murphy.
Marcus and Larry look like they’re about to faint, mouths hanging open. Ned is talking. Stuart faces me from his position and looks nervous when he sees me. Ned follows Stuart’s gaze and also looks at me. Yeah, whatever. I pick a book and start reading, giving up on trying to discover their secret.
Ten minutes later, they finish. I’m about six meters away but somehow manage to hear a few last words as they leave. Words that would change my life:
“Rod would never want… we can’t recruit him… And don’t forget Stuart… I don’t know why but she insisted on meeting you today. Same spot.”
---
The next morning my mind is racing. I can’t stop thinking about what I heard in the library. There’s only one way to find out.
I’m stalking Stuart today.
I get ready and this time remember to say goodbye to Mom. I’m one of the rare students who doesn’t live on campus. My house is nearby and Mom insists her “baby” doesn’t need to live there.
I see Stuart as soon as I get off the bus. Instead of going inside, he’s heading toward the part of the yard where the cheerleaders are practicing. What the hell?
I follow him carefully and stop when one of the cheerleaders walks toward him. He glances back but I’m too far for him to suspect I’m following.
The cheerleader’s name is Venus. And the name fits. Venus is the hottest planet in our solar system, and she’s the hottest girl in the entire campus — maybe even the whole town.
Stuart is literally trembling as this goddess approaches. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it looks like she’s complimenting him. Stuart is stuttering, barely standing. I can’t blame him. Even if I don’t think I’d act the same, I’ve grown bitter. I hate every girl. It’s easy to say, “If you don’t talk to them you won’t know.” Yeah, yeah, blame the victim. But when you’ve been rejected enough times, you know what to expect.
They finish talking. Stuart turns back toward me, sweating — and from what I can see… he’s erect.
---
“What are you looking at?”
I turn, startled. A girl is standing behind me. I can't deny how beautiful she is despite my growing irritation. Since when has she been there?
Stuart walks past us without looking at our faces, probably ashamed of the bulge in his pants.
“Aw, Stuart, sweetie! Try not to stab someone with that!” she laughs.
I don’t know why, but hearing her sweet voice mocking him excites me. My dick twitches. What am I thinking? I can’t stand girls like her.
“Mind your business!” I snap, trying to regain composure.
“Hahaha! You’re so rude, it’s funny! I am minding my business. I’m heading to practice and you’re standing here far from where you’re supposed to be. Are you here to perv on us? Don’t you feel lucky a girl out of your league is talking to you?”
“No. I’m a league above you. I have good grades. You’re dumb. Just because you make a few stupid heads turn doesn’t mean I’m inferior. You’re not productive, just shaking your fat ass ‘cheerleading’ and getting fucked by guys who don’t even care about you!”
(Damn. I should’ve shut up. Where did that come from? Years of frustration, I guess.)
“Oh! I think I know your type. I-N-C-E-L. You’re just frustrated you can’t get a piece of us. Most guys like you aren’t angels. How would you act if girls were attracted to you? If sex was guaranteed? Would you be better?”
I stare at her. She walks past me and, without turning her head, says:
“Follow me. I think you can still be useful to girls like me. Finally be noticed, Mr. ‘Too Smart and Superior.’ Hahaha!”
Who does she think she is? But my eyes drop to her ass. Oh dear.
“You can follow me or miss the chance of your life to get close to asses like mine!”
No way. Is she proposing free sex? Only one way to find out. My cock is at full mast.
“For someone who hates girls, you look way too happy to be near me,” she teases, eyes fixed on my bulge. “Follow me, and don’t try to jam it between my cheeks. You’ll regret it and ruin your chances.”
Why not? If she’s really offering sex, that wouldn’t be a problem. She begins walking slowly toward the others. Instead of letting my pride dictate my actions, I follow her, knowing I still have 20 minutes before science class.
I also know it might be my biggest mistake ever.
She reaches the place where the bombshell was training with two other girls, me following close behind, trying to somehow hide my erection. She screams like a child opening their Christmas gift:
“Hello, Venus! Look who I brought here!”
“I figure you’re crazy to bring a misogynistic incel to a place that oozes girl power, Sarah,” Venus says without looking in my direction. (So her name was Sarah.)
“No. He’s still a candidate. Listen, why do they feel that way? What do those guys miss?”
“Tell me, Miss I’m-an-Expert. Poor little old me only knows that he can abide only guys around him. Is he gay?”
At this point, no need to say I’m fuming. I turn to leave, but Sarah quickly catches my arm. For a short moment I appreciate it — it’s the first time a girl has touched me. Then I come back to reality, realizing it isn’t because she likes me; it’s because she wants me to be part of whatever they’re planning with the two other idiots from my class. I look her straight in the eyes and say:
“Can you just leave me alone?”
“No. Listen first. As I was asking Venus before she messed up”—she gives her a disappointed look—“What do you really miss? Why are you such a jerk with girls?”
“The jerks are the ones you open your legs for.”
“You could get some too… well, not me or Venus since we’re already ‘taken,’ but another pretty girl.”
Damn. Did I hear right? Was she offering me sex? Was this a prank? One thing is sure: my body is reacting at this point.
As if she’s reading my mind Venus says, “Don’t get your hopes up. You aren’t getting into our panties — at least not the way you wish, loser! Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You’re frustrated because girls don’t give you attention. But deep down, despite being bitter and rude to us, you worship us. You can’t help admiring our faces and bodies. The only difference between Stuart and Ned and you is that they tried to find a way to get our attention and interest. You chose to stay stuck in your incel rage like so many on social media!”
I wonder what Stuart and Ned did to give those girls such big heads. I’m about to learn as she continues, “Three weeks ago, Stuart approached me right after practice. I was wondering what he wanted as he was getting close. He was having a hard time talking clearly. He said he wanted to talk with me in private. I didn’t know why, but I agreed right away. Maybe I was dead curious about what the dork wanted from me. I had to admit he was so confident. I followed him to the library, which was empty at that time. We went deep inside where nobody could see us. Once we got there, he surprised me by getting on his knee in front of me and said, ‘Venus… I hope… t-this conversation will stay between y…you and me.’
“He was stuttering like crazy! When I asked what that was supposed to mean and why he felt the need to get on his knee, he answered, ‘You’re so beautiful. I wish I could be with you every second of my life. Sometimes I fantasize that we’re kissing… I know that will probably never happen. I know I’m not your type. And I’m probably not any girl’s type. I’m at this point in my life where I realized I will never know what a loving relationship with a girl is. Maybe that’s the trigger, or just from visiting… some sites. I don’t know if it’s lust, or a fetish, like many would call it. But lately I have had a strong urge… I just hope that will stay between us no matter what your answer will be… I can’t help but want to… to… be used by you, as whatever you want, your chair, your… your f-footrest… just to feel your body against me. To smell you… and… maybe… taste you. I-I know you will never be my girlfriend, is it possible to have this at least? Please I don’t know what I hope for by telling you this… but keep it be-between us.’
“I was quiet for a few seconds after his a-little-too-long speech. ‘Wow… I’m impressed! Talking about a confession, I was ready to laugh in your face thinking you were about to ask me out—?’ He lowered his eyes.
“He suddenly got on his feet, maybe ashamed by his weird, desperate speech and about to leave. But I put my hands on his shoulders, holding him still. He looked at me with terror. I told him, ‘I can’t believe you’re so brave. I’m such a witch that I would normally laugh in your face anyway. But I kinda feel flattered… I might grant your wishes with two conditions. You would have to find more guys like you. My girls could use the same treatment. Second, you’ll have to do whatever we want also (homework, money, etc.). Did I make myself clear?’
“He looked at me with fear in his eyes. He was afraid from my first request that implied other people might know his secret wishes, especially his friends. I told him that other dorks like him would easily accept our deal; at worst they would just avoid him. He wasn’t risking a long-term drama from them. He succumbed. I first demanded an ass-eating session from him. I was sweating after my practice and needed a prewash, his first task was being my sweat rag, hehe! Which he eagerly accepted instead of being disgusted. He spent a whole half hour tasting my butthole before I had to put an end to it. When I turned to say goodbye, I saw it: a big wet stain on top of the throbbing tent in his pants. Hahaha!”
Sarah laughed. “You still don’t see why you’re here, idiot? Join us. It’s not just us. One of my cousins from Texas even managed to get a 45-year-old teacher, probably a virgin, from another school at her beck and call. Seems he could not bear to keep his fantasies in his search history. I won’t go into details. But I have to let you know if you join us, you’ll serve someone that would probably be less terrible for your pride, since you’re just a misogynistic incel. I mean, it depends on your point of view… my own single mother, don’t worry, we are loyal to each other, your small reputation is safe, she’s open-minded and you’re too precious to lose, even if it’s so tempting to show to the world that girls rule, boys drool. Hahaha!”
I look at my phone screen, trying to hide the fact I’m excited by her speech.
“I don’t know if you’re crazy or trying to make a prank, but I have to go!”
Sarah laughs. “In case you change your mind, my address is 45 Fall Street. You don’t have to spend your life raging against women without even knowing how we smell. But let me warn you. My mother is not like us. You’ll have to wear a chastity cage. That will help you behave. Plus we don’t want you to have a little accident while serving her like our little friend Stuart, do we…?” They laugh as I’m already 10 meters away throughout her little speech.
Who do they think they are? Did they really think I would fall for this? I’m in my room thinking about everything those girls told me. Were Stuart and Ned this depraved? I mean, I watch some femdom porn. And I get horny. But that doesn’t mean I would accept doing degrading things for some girls. I look at my phone screen. It’s already 22:10. I close my book and try to fall asleep while a million thoughts fight in my head.
---
Three days later I’m about to do something I’ll probably regret… or not. I don’t know. I’m in front of a house on Fall Street. Number 45. Yes, it’s the house. A car just arrives in front of it. From it steps a brown-haired woman in her 40s. Damn! Talk about a MILF! Even Venus couldn’t reach her level. Why are those thoughts invading my mind? When her eyes meet mine, I don’t know if I regret my choice or if I feel happy and somehow satisfied. Her gray eyes look like she’s analyzing my soul. She wears a black skirt with blue flowers and a black see-through shirt that shows her cleavage. Her red-lipsticked mouth breaks into a large smile:
“Hi, Rod, those admiring eyes tell me everything. You don’t need to be shy. That’s girl power! Hahaha! Sarah told me everything about you! You don’t need to talk for now if you don’t want to. Come in.”
I follow her, hypnotized by the swaying of her hips and the sound of her spiked high heels. She also has beautiful, shapely legs.
“I think you have a little something for me,” she says, putting her hand out, palm up, without looking back.
Oh, I almost forgot. I reluctantly put my chastity key in her hand. “Good boy!” she purrs.
I don’t pay too much attention to the inside of the house. My eyes are focused only on her. She puts her hands on my shoulders and presses down.
I moan in defeat and fall on my knees, already anticipating the denial I’ll have to go through and the hard work I’ll have to do to satisfy her expectations.
My cage tightens as she winks her asshole, parting her cheeks with her well-manicured hands, her musky, sweaty scent overwhelming my nostrils. After she demands my tongue, my voice breaks as I speak for the first time since arriving:
“Thank you… goddess.” I say, surprised by my own words and trembling voice.
“Hahaha! You’re welcome, boy. Oh boy—?”
“Yes, my divine queen?”
She rubs my head gently while my tongue is still deep in her hot asshole, then presses my face harder between her cheeks and says:
“No more incel rage!”
