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Sometimes, I don’t even need to try. They just make it too easy for me. So young and impressionable. I tell them what they want to hear and they melt to my whims.
Like this latest one. Just barely turned twenty and already set to take on the world.
I’ve been working this one for three months. I got lucky this time around that the meet up was so quick. A chance family vacation.
The others took much longer. I hate to wait. Part of me felt bad for the one that took over a year. She really received my pent up frustration.
She didn’t last long until she was used up. I’m still searching for that perfect combination of desperate and broken that will keep them perpetually under my influence.
So time for a new one.
A few flirty comments and some private DMs is all it takes. It keeps getting easier and easier. These days, all I need to say is ‘I’m old enough to be your mother~’ and they throw themselves at me. They go absolutely feral for it. Instant imprint. As if earning my approval will fill some void.
They hang off my every word. It’s disgusting.
I savour every moment.
So now here she comes. My latest prey. I can see her down the street, awkward and vulnerable, like a cross between a new born deer and a lost puppy.
She’s boymoding in baggy shorts and a tee-shirt, but I can see the effects of the DIY HRT plainly.
She told me her family doesn’t know. If they are refusing to acknowledge those curve, this will be even easier than expected. It’s always easier when all it takes is a gentle push to isolate them from their friends and family. A clean break with no one to return to.
It’s important to control their surroundings. The smaller their support structure, the more dependant on me they become. The more desperate for my affection.
I’ll start by affirming her identity. I’ll take her under my wing. I’ll buy her the dresses and makeup she desires. But I’ll make sure the skirts get shorter and more revealing each time until she’s blushing in every outfit. My perfect little dress-up doll.
With expensive nights out and lavish trips; all her friends will look at her either with disdain or jealously.
When I’m through with her, she’ll need me. No matter what.
She is scanning each of the storefronts looking for me.
I’m in the window of my favourite matcha shop. To put her on my turf. Home field advantage.
Why wouldn’t I give myself every advantage. I’m saving these poor girls, I deserve them in return.
She spots me and smiles. I take a strategic drink from my mug, pretending not to see her. She rushes quickly through the shop door and cautiously approaches.
“Hi…” She says meekly as she enters my line of sight and waves.
A saccharine smile creeps across my face.
I know I’ve got her.
My therapist tells me to “Let go of everything I can’t control”.
No. I control everything and I hold on tight.
⚜
Sometimes, I don’t even need to try. They just make it too easy for me. I just call them ‘Mommy~’ and they lose all rational thought.
Like this latest one. Pushing forty and fawning for my attention.
She thinks I’m on a family vacation but the story is all carefully curated. I even dressed in some ill fitting cargo shorts and a plain graphic tee. She’ll be dying to get me in a slutty little dress in no time.
I’ve been eating these women alive for years now, and I’d like to think I’m quite good at it. It is a careful dance to alienate them from their friend groups. I’d love if it was as easy as joking ‘She’s old enough to be my mother~’, but that really only scares away the normies.
The close friends, those take more planning. Dedicated pressure. Like passive aggressive comments and vague rumours through the friend group. Even subtly letting my slang infect her vocabulary to show my influence.
My best idea was changing my first victim’s number without her knowing. She thought all her friends blocked her for being a freak. No one else to turn to but me. I was all she had.
It was delicious.
But I’m capable of more. I can be distant too. I’ll call ‘red’ early. Refuse aftercare. Really feed into those thoughts of inadequacy.
When she asks, I’ll say ‘I’m fine’ then I’ll call ‘red’ even earlier next time. Drive that wedge in deep and send her spiralling.
The last woman I pushed too hard though. She broke under the stress.
So here I am looking a new play thing.
That perfect combination of arrogant and desperate that will keep them perpetually under my influence.
I can see her now, fresh meat, in the window of her favorite coffee shop.
I let her have the home court advantage. To put her at ease. It’ll be easier if she doesn’t see it coming.
I smile just seeing her.
Yes. She looks like she’ll take what she wants. That will make her easy to control.
I’ll make her wait. Make her frustrated. Then let her go too far.
It will be all the sweeter when she doesn’t suspect a thing until the blackmail is in front of her.
She’s sipping on her drink like that will help her feign innocence.
But I know what she is. And I’ll make her suffer for it.
“Hi…” I say as pathetic as I can manage. It’s well practiced.
A sickly sweet smile slips through her lips.
I know I’ve got her.
And I’m not letting go.