They say I’m a bad man, but I don’t think one can objectively judge oneself. I c

They say I’m a bad man, but I don’t think one can objectively judge oneself. I can understand why; after all, I am surrounded by air-headed, mindless fuck dolls. There’s no better description for it really; they aren’t women, because women are people. No, these are just fuckdolls, and they are my special creation.

Of course they don’t start out that way. They were women, probably with careers, dreams, quite possibly very intelligent, diligent cogs in the social machine. They are unhappy, many; unable to find love, frustrated with their job, an unsympathetic boss, or an unsatisfying sex life.

And I change that. Gone are the worries, the frustrations, the unattainable desires and the unrealistic expectations. Replaced with a sense of joyous, boundless bliss, happiness and sense of belonging. To not just believe, but to know their purpose, their calling, their destiny. The only desire, urge or thought being sex, and with the bodies they are endowed with, they are never far from sating that need.

They are, truly, happier than they could ever be without me. So, am I really that bad of a man? Yes, I reduce women to nothing but mindless fuckdolls -but if they truly are happy like that, is it such a bad thing?

Is it wrong to make women, and the men who use them, happy?

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