H has cut off my balls. No, that’s too clean. She has crushed them. More accurately, she has slipped a rubber ring onto me, like onto a sheep, and watched for years as the restricted bloodflow killed my manhood. Why have I let her do it?
Why does she act as though her emancipation requires my emasculation? That is a central mystery to me. Why has she seen us as enemies? Why weren’t we able to work together towards a solution?
— Nat.
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