Asura stomped through the front door, slamming it as hard as she could with her dainty foot. It failed to make her feel better. In a huff, she threw her bag against the wall where it hit hard and slipped to the floor, papers scattering from within it. It took all her will today, as it always did, to pretend to be a normal, good student for her peers, teachers, and parents. She endured dumb questions from clueless, halfwit peers all day long, hiding eyebrow twitches and gritted teeth as she patiently gave the answer she was supposed to give. Oh, but she wanted to be herself so badly, to drop her cordial demeanor and tear into these lesser minds with scathing retorts to the inane, uninteresting things they said to her. Running potential insults in her mind was the only respite she had from this otherwise constant frustration. For the honestly-who-remembers boy who had asked her what her plans were for after high school, she had mentally come up with the reply, "If I have to hear that innane, surface level question from one more inbred moron, my plans after high school— no, after I stand out of this fucking chair will be to tear off your genitals, cram them in your mouth, and leave you in an alley for the cops to find." Of course, she gave a simple, innocuous answer as was expected of her instead: "Aha, that question goes around a lot, doesn't it? And yet, I haven't really thought about it all that much myself... Maybe something like pre-med or bio-engineering or something?" while playing with one of her twin-tails innocently like some kind of simpleton.
But what a hassle even thinking that up and uttering that sentence was! It made her head ache. Asura walked to her room and slumped into her chair with a deep, frustrated sigh... but some relief did come as well. This was her place of repose and meditation, a place where she wasn't hiding and where her truest, undeniably superior, self came out to play.
She leaned back into her chair and propped up her feet on her desk, quickly navigating to an anonymous image board about writing stories, a frequent online hunting grounds for her vile, narcissistic indulgences. Scrolling through threads, Asura perused titles looking for new victims to indulge herself in. Immediately, spotting the posting pattern of one such easy-to-troll author she targeted often, she started furiously writing a crude reply: "Fuxk off hick die for tuck sake. Please do not spam your 2hu shit here." She posted it and awaited his inevitable naive defense, already giggling at the coming exchange. After a few moments, he replied, "Please don't flame me ;_; My stuff is good, look!"
A sadistic grin grew wider on Asura's face, a shudder of pleasant excitement running down her spine. She typed back, "Lol you fucking retard its terrible" and posted again, not even waiting for a reply before searching for a new victim. Her opinions were only molded to be opposite of whomever she was attacking online; anything someone liked, Asura hated by default. "Fuck you, hippie. Every animal belongs to mankind. We were put here to dominate the planet," read another comment she left. This time, the tingle of egoistic pleasure was stronger, her face flushed, mouth slightly agape, breathing heavier as she imagined the target crying reading her posts. Another comment: "Based, short fucks get removed form the gene pool."
She reached for her skirt, fumbling to unzip it while shifting her legs apart. Asura, finally peeling her eyes off of the replies slowly gathering under her posts, looked down between her legs. A pair of white panties with pink polka dots covered her crotch; she had picked them out because they seemed innocent enough to match her outward persona... except they had an obscene gooey stain on the front. "...Again?" she mumbled in frustrated confusion. Once again she had to come to terms with the strange fact, one that even she in all her brilliance couldn't explain, that she got aroused mocking people online. It hadn't always been this way. Originally, she just enjoyed the power trip of insulting idiots and watching them defend their pathetic interests. But eventually, her twisted narcissistic nature evolved further, manifesting itself in sexual desire whenever she abused others online. "I'm not weird..." she reassured herself, but her denial didn't really help. It just made her annoyed, but there was nobody to be annoyed at but herself. Other repugnant feelings came with it too, like shame. Why would she ever be ashamed at herself? Why couldn't she figure out why? She was smarter than anyone else, so why couldn't she figure this one thing out, that would affirm what she already knew: she wasn't a pervert, she wasn't weird.
Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear and tugged downward. A glistening wetness coated her labia, a string of fluids connecting her pussy to her underwear as it was pulled away, causing her annoyed glare to intensify. "Stupid... stupid fucking body..." she muttered as she tossed the panties onto the floor. Frustrated at being sexually excited when she didn't want to be, Asura's next target for verbal deconstruction was herself. "