The Castrating Gillibrands

They hunt us like dogs

Those female wolf packs we call “the Gillibrands” after that sicko senator that once tried to run for president on a man-hating ticket.

Gillibrands don’t want to kill us, they want to cut off our balls.

Any excuse will do.

In my case, my ex-girlfriend Cynthia fingered me in revenge for my dumping her.

To tell you the truth, I don’t really know why Cynthia hates me as much as she does.

But the Gillibrands believe anything any woman tells them about any man.

Now I’m told there are safe places where a man like me can go, but finding them is hard.

So I dress up like a woman until I can.

I make an awfully ugly woman.

But I can’t stomach acting like the ball-less men Cynthia and the Gillibrands tolerate, telling them yes to anything they say, telling them they’re always right about everything, when for the most part they’re not.

These are men who would castrate themselves if asked, and may have already.

Cynthia asked me to act like them, which is one of the reasons I needed to break things off with her.

And why she called the Gillibrands to emasculate me.

Gillibrands can do anything they want to any man for any reason any time a woman points her finger at him.

We all know in this political climate, it doesn’t matter if you did something bad or not, only if some woman said you did.

The longer I go undetected the better chance I have of finding a permanent place of safety.

Still I keep calling Cynthia, hoping she still cares enough to take it back or for me to makeup with her for whatever she believes I did.

When I finally reach Cynthia on the phone, she is still angry, telling me I’ll get what I deserve for dumping, and if she can’t have me the way she wants to have me, then she’ll make sure no woman can.

Now, I’m really scared, knowing nothing short of castration will satisfy her lust.

When I ask some men about a possible safe place they take me for a drag queen or a spy and tell me to get lost or get dead.

Worse, Gillibrands’ spies find out I’m in disguise and start to pursue me.

I do what you’re never supposed to do in that situation, I run like hell.

I’m all mixed up inside, telling myself maybe I’m better off as a eunuch since most women want their men like that.

I wouldn’t need a safe place to hid, and I would get on with my life without fear.

And there would be nothing worse Cynthia could do to me.

Only I refuse to give up my manhood.

I refuse to let Cynthia win or give hysterical man-hating women like the Gillibrands the satisfaction of castrating yet another real man.

But I’m desperate to find a safe place, because if I don’t, I’m better off dead.

When the Gillibrands come to get me, I do the unexpected. I shed the dress and pretend like I’m one of the ball-less men Cynthia was always insisting I become.

I feel smug and superior when they over look me in their search for a real man in a dress.

Then, dressed as a man, I seek out other men, who help me find the safe place I need.

But we all know the Gillibrands will never give up.

We are safe only until the Gillibrands break some real man who will then give us up

And so we live in fear, and I live with the realization that in the end, Cynthia and the Gillibrands have won.