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Some day, you'll awaken in a den of whores -- half-buried under mounds of pocked flesh, quivering and slithering amid the pervasive stench of moldy vulvas. You may even find your member stuck in a slimy crevice. Pull out immediately, and express your disgust by vomiting on the wench. Point accusatorily and glare disdainfully until you've regained full erection. When engaging such cunts, you must be firm: "Young Madame, your vagina is painfully grating. Fortunately for you, my epidermal seems intact, save the usual lesions." If she's cunning, she might discharge a tube of K-Y into her snatch. But this is only a ploy. She might even tap her vast repertoire of lies. Do not fall for the slippery lips and make a messy situation even worse. (As if that jelly wasn't cold enough...) "Spew not, my callous shrew. Save your twaddle for the next customer." She'll likely feign offense and unveil the putrid VD inherent in her sex. (Vindictive Demeanor, that is.) But if you understand the impetus, this savage onslaught is easily squelched. Simply assure her that the money is hers to keep. "No need for a snit. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your antibiotics. Better fill that Rx tonight, if you can." But take heed, a female's brash exhibition of her VD is your cue to leave. Once clear of her fetor, vomit again if possible, and try to clear your head of any remaining fluid. Now, don't be too hard on yourself for falling into her den. Even if it were possible to avoid prowling harlots, to do so would be shirking our responsibility. We must provide always for the welfare of the weaker sex. This is the gentle man's burden... Strain of decay. Stroke your virile pride and rise to the occasion.
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