Puppet On A String
Becky (an ex girlfriend) would turn to me and some times say,
“I just feel like your puppet at times.”
I had to look the other way because I wanted to laugh. My nickname for her was poppet. She loved me calling her that. I used it straight away when we first met. It was actually a useful device as the other lady I was seeing, Susan, received that nickname from me too, but she was on the way out. It meant I could call them both poppet and not mix up their names with the invariable histrionics that would ensue. God, I am good.
What Becky had not realised that my calling her poppet was a corruption of puppet and every time I used it I would be laughing inwardly and beaming outwardly. She thought I was just smiling because I was pleased to be with her.
That is what it is all about. Making you my puppet. This is my aim. This is the means to my end of obtaining my fuel from you. As you will no doubt becoming familiar with, the means always justifies the end. Accordingly, by ensuring you become my puppet I am in the optimum position to control you to extract every drop of fuel I can from you.
I need to control you so that you admire me when I want it. I need to control you so that I can pull the strings and make you jerk to my tune. I am the puppetmaster.
To make you my puppet I engage on a two-pronged approach. Firstly, I make you utterly dependent on me. I open the doors and let you look upon heaven. That way you are in awe of what I can give you and you want it, oh you really, really want it. Secondly, I will then remove every method of support both real and potential that you might rely on to try and recover your free will (family, friends, colleagues and so on – I will be posting about how I do this through my slur campaign in a separate post) so that you have nobody to turn to. Thus, as you look on heaven entranced and enraptured, I am opening the trapdoor to hell right under your feet.
Once I have those strings attached to you we can begin our dance. It is long. It is exhausting. It is dangerous.
6 thoughts on “Puppet On A String”
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I have just called out a friend on Facebook for keep calling me “Flymo” a silly nickname that arose from a mishearing of my name when we first met. It has been grating on me since she has started calling me that name again regularly. She did stop for some years. This is a name she called me in our twenties. We are now in our 50’s.
Throughout our ‘friendship’, she would regularly hit on men I had an interst in, an when I was engaged, on my hen night she did a speech that insulted my future husband the whole way through calling him horse face…Your advice would be gratefully received HG.
You have identified some indicators there BL, which merit putting your friend through this https://narcsite.com/narc-detector-2/
She would never agree to that, she thinks she’s the bees knees and is the middle daughter of a very strict religious father. I think I knew the answer already, I’m just wondering how she is reacting to my new found assertiveness 😂😂Thanks HG. Still finding your work of great help.
You don’t need her agreement, you provide the information.
Ah, I see. I’ll look into doing this once I’m off my Furlough.Thanks HG👍
I would love to read the Slur, when will that be out?