Category Archives: Seduction

My Secret Garden

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Would you like to know what my garden is like? Before I tell you, why don’t you stop and close your eyes and picture in your mind’s eye what you think my garden looks like? That’s right, conjure up the image that forms when you think of me and what my garden might be like. Take your time, move around it and ensure you have given it due consideration as you generate the image. Have you done it? Did it take you long? I suspect you managed to envisage it rather quickly didn’t you, after all, you are well-known for your amazing imagination aren’t you? I often find I have to apologise for your fantastic tales and over the top comments, but that is to be expected of somebody like you. Anyway, let’s leave your behaviour to one side for the time being (although I will return to it when nobody is looking, you can be assured of that) and let’s consider what you created in your mind.

I should imagine that the landscape you have formulated is one of two outcomes. I expect that some of you will have pictured nothing but concrete. All plant life and flora banished by a solid slab of grey cement that has solidified into an impenetrable barrier that stretches in all directions, lifeless and uninspiring. Once there might have been a flourishing and verdant garden but it has been banished by this concrete covering which has extinguished anything that grew or blossomed. If the concrete carbuncle is not what you saw in your mind then you will have opted for the alternative. You will have pictured solid, barren and lifeless soil which will not sustain anything of beauty. A toxic and poisonous stream flows through the centre of it, dead fish floating on their backs as they drift lifelessly along. Not even algae grow on this polluted stream. The few trees there are in this garden are dead. The bark grey and lifeless, forlorn limbs stretching into a dark grey sky, where there is always cloud. The branches and twigs are leafless. The bushes consist of brambles which hinder anybody who might try and move through this uninviting place. There is no grass and there a few brown, dried-out husks which suggest they might have once been something greener and vibrant. There are no sweet smelling flowers here, only the awful stench which rises from the slow-moving stream which looks more like treacle that water. Even the weeds are few and far between, struggling to find any sustenance from the sterile soil.

Is this what you saw?

Come and follow me as I take you into my secret garden. I produce a key from my jacket explaining that very few people ever get to see my secret garden but I am letting you inside because you are special and I like you. I open the thick gate and usher you inside. You do not see me hurriedly lock it behind you since you are busy staring at the beautiful garden that rolls out before you. Capability Brown must have laboured long and hard here. The lawn is flat and even, the grass has been rolled so that stripes have formed and there is not one blemish to be seen amidst the green, green blades. The edges of the lawn have been carefully cut so that no grass overhangs so that there is a distinct line between the lawn and the flower beds. The soil looks fertile, well-nourished and is free of weeds. A dazzling array of flowers grow from this well-tilled soil. Strong stalks reach up towards the azure sky, shiny leaves sprouting from the stalks before the injection of colour appears. Every shade of the rainbow is represented amongst the many varieties of flower that flourish in my secret garden. Brilliant blues, fiery oranges, ruby reds and sunshine yellows abound. The flowers have short petals, long petals which move in the gentle breeze, there are bell-shaped flowers, trumpet shaped flowers and others shaped like stars. White, purple, scarlet and ochre all combine to create this tapestry of beauty. A stream gurgles as it passes through the garden, cutting across the magnificently manicured lawn, so that an intricate bridge has been created allowing one to traverse from one side to the other. Bushes ring the flowers, an expert in topiary having crafted them into sensational shapes. Beyond the bushes are the trees, tall and trimmed so that they form a fence around this paradise. You stand on the edge of this magnificent garden utterly transfixed. The scents waft from the roses, from the lilies and the sweet William combining to create a heady concoction of fragrances. You are over awed by this display.

“Do you like it?” I ask.

You are dumb-founded, unable to speak. All you can muster is a slow nod as you feel a tear trickle down your cheek from your left eye as you are overtaken by how beautiful it all is.

I beckon to you and you follow me to a nearby apple tree which is festooned with fruit. The red and green apples hang from the branches and I pluck one and pass it to you. You smile and take a bite anticipating how fresh and crisp the apple will be. Your teeth easily sink in as you are surprised to find the flesh of the apple soft. You taste bitterness in your mouth and instinctively spit out the piece of fruit.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I select an apple too.

“It is sour,” you explain. I take a bite from my apple and you hear the crunch as I take a chunk from it. I chew and through the mouthful explain that mine tastes fine. I hand the apple to you and you bite into it. It is soft and again tastes sour. Confusion rises inside you as you look at the apple and see a maggot wriggling beneath where you have bitten into the apple. You hurl the apple away as I invite you to sniff a magnificent rose nearby. You lean in and inhale its perfume, pulling the petalled head towards you. There is no scent and instead you sneeze. As you let go of the rose you give a short cry of pain and find that a thorn is wedged in your finger, the blood already spooring from the wound and trickling down your finger. You sneeze again,your nose irritated by something and you keep sneezing as your eyes water. You stagger away from the rose still sneezing and into a bush but it is not the sculpted creation you saw moments earlier. Instead, you feel a prickling sensation as you are stung and realise you have stumbled into a bed of nettles. Pain rising you stagger away, eyes streaming and make for where you recall the stream is hoping to use the cool, clear water to wash away the irritation you have suffered. You can just make out where it is through your blurred vision as you drop to your knees only to cry out again. You have knelt on some thistles.Where did they come from? This lawn was flawless before. You reach out flailing for the stream but there is nothing, The water has gone and the stream has dried up. You feel something wrap around your left wrist and as you try to wipe away the tears from your eyes with your free hand, you feel pain as a vine begins to tighten about your wrist. You pull trying to free yourself from it and twist around to call to me for help.

The smooth lawn is no longer there. Gone is the rolled grass. Instead you are looking at a mountainside, rugged and steep. You yank your arm as the vine is trying to pull you and look upwards. You can see me standing there smiling at you, looking down from my lofty position atop this mountain which has sprung out of nowhere. A cold wind begins to blow as you shout for help, another vine beginning to snake towards you. I tilt my head as if I cannot hear you, a smile still plastered across my face.

“Help me, what is happening?” you shout.

“Nothing,” I call back, ” I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“This. The garden, it has changed,” you yell above the gathering wind. You see that I am shaking my head.

” Not it’s not, everything is just the same, Beautiful isn’t it?” I reply.

You frown. How can I not see what has altered? The beautiful glade has become a hostile and hurtful place. How has this happened to you? You try and crawl forward and I stand watching you, offering no help as more vines snake towards you, the ground beneath you hard and stony. The vines wrap about you and threaten to pull you into the abyss below you. All the while I stand and watch smiling.

Welcome to my secret garden.

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Eyes Wide Shut

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Will you ever recognise me as I walk towards you, rictus grin fixed across my face, eyes ablaze with love, passion and desire? Will you notice the way I keep you in my sights as my charm flows over you, seeping into your every pore and orifice? Will you take heed of the sugar-coated words as they spill from my mouth, telling you so remarkably all the things that you want to hear? Will you take note of the phrases which have been recycled again and again and possess the novelty of a cliché? Will you look deep into my eyes and see past your reflection or will you remain transfixed by what shines in these dulled, dark eyes? Will you question how is it that I know so much about you, where you live, where you work, your hobbies and your hates? Will you feel the chill down your spine as I appear once again without warning at a location you frequent or will you regard it as the tingling sensation of excitement and the thrill of my alluring personality? Will you question the platitudes that I issue, like confetti sprinkled on the breeze or will you smile and nod and savour the warmth that rises within you as I tell you how wonderful you are and that we belong together? Will you frown at my declaration of love within a day and a night and a day of meeting you or will you accept and swallow those carefully crafted words without a moment’s consideration? Will you wonder how my hands and mouth became so skilled or will you submit to their heady application and give breathless thanks that they are laid upon you? Will you query how this golden light continues to shine and wonder why you were chosen above all the others? Will you see through the veneer of scathing hatred for those who have gone before you or will you become co-conspirator and sneer at her or at him, disgusted by their lack of dignity in the way that they behave? Will you not ask yourself whether their words ring with truth and why they look as if their very essence has been sucked from them, leaving naught but a fractured shell? Will you wonder why the gifts keep on coming? Will you question the forbidden fruits that have been laid before you or will you gorge on them, delirious with desire and elated by the ecstasy of our largesse?

Will you recognise me when I turn my face from you when you try to kiss me? Will you know what is happening when you are left in a tearful heap on the floor for the third time in a week or will you flagellate yourself for your shortcomings? Will you notice as the triangles are weaved around you and your best friend becomes your supposed enemy, but by whose say so? Will you fight back against the control that is exerted on the way you look, what you choose to do and who you interact with or will you accept it and allow your sense of self to evaporate? Will you understand what is happening to you as you crawl alone into that ice-cold bed, this once haven of sexual congress that now lies like an empty tomb ? Will you realise what is going on as you blink back tears as the clock shows 3am and you have no idea where I am?  Will you stand up for yourself when you are labelled whore, slattern, idiot and fool or will you bow your head and retreat, thankful that your injuries are only verbal. This time. Will you remember what you once were ? Will you remain bound by the chains of confusion or will you break them across your knee and free yourself from your cruel bondage?

Will you recognise me as my hand grips your throat and my bile-infused words rain down on you, spittle flecked hatred peppering your face? Will you dial my number for the fiftieth time in two hours as you desperately try to hear my voice and ask me, beg me, plead for me to come home? Will you wince as another dinner set falls prey to my savage fury ? Will you kneel and pick up the pieces, fingers shaking as you fumble for the broken shards that lie scattered across the floor? Will you know what is being systematically done to you each and every day or will you obscure the reality by praying for that golden light to come back and dispel the darkness? Will you recognise me for what I truly am or will you make yet another excuse, wondering what will happen when you run dry of the excuses and hastily constructed explanations for my reign of terror?

Will you recognise me as I cast you aside, shoved into the dirt and sneered at? Will you look up from the smouldering ruins of what we once had and see her (or is it you?) looking back at you with disdain writ large across her made-up features? She seems so familiar, do you know her, there is such a fog now and it clouds so much. Will you understand why you have been forgotten about as your numbed fingers compose another searching e-mail, asking for explanations that will not come, expressing tearful anger that will be smiled at, detailing your abject hurt which will only ever receive a dismissive shrug?

Will you recognise me for what I am when I reach out a hand and lift you from your broken existence? Will you know what truly is going to happen as I lead you once more towards the brilliant, burning golden light? Will you feel the prick of caution in your mind or will you gladly race towards the promised land once again, concern and hesitation thrown to one side? Will you notice the rictus grin once again as you race ahead of me? Will you pay attention to the darkened glint in my baleful gaze or will you charge headlong towards the paradise,  addicted to its warmth and glorious sensations? Will you recognise me as I close the door behind us, bolt it and turn the heavy iron key in the lock as the thick drapes are pulled across the dirt-smeared windows? Will you notice the sharpened dagger that I have produced and hold behind my back?

Will you stop and glance in the shattered mirror that dominates this place and if you do, will you recognise yourself?

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The Parasite

You fed off me and I am sick of it. You attached yourself to me drawn by my magnetism, but I never asked you to. You just decided that you wanted to be with me, you need me, truth be told and because I am magnanimous I allowed you to attach to me but as of late your taking and leeching has begun to annoy me. You cannot deny this is what you are. The evidence speaks for itself. You saw my charm, my attractiveness, my easy manner with people and how they are drawn to me and like some opportunist you decided that you wanted some of that. You realised that you could benefit massively by attaching yourself to me. You could avail yourself of my impeccable reputation, my scintillating presence and my esteemed connections. I do not blame you for wanting to be associated with me, who would not? Who would not want such a slice of the action as me? The opportunity to move in circles that you had never experienced before. The chance to be somebody. The time to clamber upwards from the tedious life you led and the doldrums in which you festered. I suppose I ought to admire your desire to improve yourself and better yourself by seeing what I am and what I do and wanting to be a part of that world. You certainly did become part of that world as well. You enjoyed my extraordinary largesse as you accepted my gifts, my invitations and my cold hard cash. You were delighted to be on my arm as we went to so many special places. You were granted access all areas. You consumed the love I poured in your direction, drinking deep of my passion, my affection and my dedication. I helped you, I listened, I advised. I called you often as you wanted me to. I made sure you felt safe and secure with my frequent messages and attention to your well-being. I allowed your friends and family to become part of my entourage, they certainly had no qualms about getting on the gravy train did they? You dominated my attention, engulfed me with your need to keep taking from me. Even when matters became difficult you did not stop with your neediness. You wanted reassurance still, to be told that I loved you, to be taken to those special places once again. You tried to stop me doing what I wanted to do, what I needed to do. You wanted to prevent me spending time with my friends and yes before you say anything they were always only ever my friends. Honest. You saw me as an easy target. I see that now and you kept taking, taking and taking. Is it little wonder that my irritation became annoyance? That my annoyance became fury? You just would not stop taking from me and in the end I had to stop this. I had to find someone who would give rather than take and that meant I had to be rid of you. That is why I chose someone else to escape your leeching and draining behaviour. That is why I cast you aside. You are a parasite.

 

You fed off me and I am sick with it. You attached yourself to me drawn by my goodness, but I never asked you to. You just decided that you wanted to be with me, you need me, truth be told and because I am the kind and caring person that I pride myself on being, I allowed you to attach to me but as of late your taking and leeching has begun to destroy me. You cannot deny this is what you are. The evidence speaks for itself. You saw my compassion, my attractiveness, my empathic manner with people and how they respond to such kindness and love and like some opportunist you decided that you wanted all of that for yourself. You realised that you could benefit massively by attaching yourself to me. You could avail yourself of my gushing compassion, my reflective presence as my emotional nature. I do not blame you for wanting to be with me, who would not when they are a creature like you? Who would not want such to erode me slice by slice? The opportunity to move yet again in circles that you had experienced before. The chance to be make yourself feel like somebody for once. The time to clamber upwards from the empty life you lead and the chasm which threatens to engulf you. I suppose I ought to admire your desire to improve yourself and better yourself by seeing what I am and what I do and wanting to make me part of you by swallowing me up. You certainly did make me become part of you as I struggle to remember most days who I am and what I was before I met you. You enjoyed my extraordinary love as you accepted my attentiveness, my invitation into my heart and my warm, loving nature. You were delighted to be on my arm as we went to so many special places. You were granted access all areas to who I was and you saw no reason to ever respect my identity. You consumed the love I poured in your direction, drinking deep of my passion, my affection and my dedication. I helped you, I listened, I advised and even when you began to abuse me, I never wavered from that. I called you often as you wanted me to. I made sure you felt safe and secure with my frequent messages and attention to your well-being. I allowed my friends and family to become part of your facade, they certainly had no qualms about forgetting me following your smear campaigns did they? You dominated my attention, engulfed me with your need to keep taking from me. Even when matters became difficult you did not stop with your neediness. You wanted reassurance still, to be told that I loved you, to be taken to those special places in side my soul once again. You tried to stop me doing what I wanted to do, what I needed to do. You wanted to prevent me spending time with my friends and yes before you say anything they were my friends until you banished them. Honest. You saw me as an easy target. I see that now and you kept taking, taking and taking. Is it little wonder that my confusion became despair? That my despair became desperation? You just would not stop taking from me and in the end I need to find a way to stop this, but I can’t seem to. You won’t stop.  I have to find someone who will give rather than take and that means I need to be rid of you. I know this has to happen but I feel I cannot escape you, you have drained and leeched from me to such an extent that I am barely able to think and function. That is why I need to cast you aside but how can I when you will not let me go and you will not stop causing me to love you. You are a parasite.

Who is the parasite. You, me or both of us?

The parasite is the one who benefits at the expense of the other.

Who is the parasite?

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How Long Can You Resist?

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Can you hear me knocking? Open the door and let me in? I know you want to. It is only me. You know me. You know me better than anybody else. Come on, I know you are thinking about me. That is what happens. I am on your mind and in your thoughts. I am whirling around in that messed-up mind of yours. It is messed up. I didn’t do it. I didn’t do anything wrong. I never do. It was a real state before I even appeared. I just took advantage. But look, that is in the past and we don’t need to talk about the past (expect I suppose when it suits me). I know you want to hear my voice again don’t you? You miss hearing me. You miss those long conversations on the telephone that we used to have, two hours or more where there was never a lull. I know you remember them. I know you keep looking at your ‘phone hoping that it will ring and that it will be me. I know you feel a phantom buzz when you have stashed your phone on your person and you keep pulling it from your pocket and checking. You tell your friends that your mother needs to speak to you, just so they won’t groan or roll their eyes at you for wanting it to be me. I know you are itching to call me. Go on, why don’t you? You can speak to me again and it will be just like before, all of the wonderful stuff. I will reinstate it in an instant because look, I have had a lot on, I have been tired, I have been worried and so on and so forth blah blah blah. I will trot anything out because once you see me smiling at you, you won’t be listening any more.

No, you will be thinking back to that kiss as we stood in that park with the sound of the breeze through the autumnal trees. That first kiss after the days of flirting through text and call. That magical, marvellous, mesmeric kiss. The first of a million. One in a million. I know you close your eyes and stand in that park and allow yourself to be taken back to that time a year ago. That day when we both drove there and met beneath the towering trees, the September sunshine still warm and I stood there, my magnetic smile on display as you half-ran towards me and I took you in my arms and then we kissed. Imagine doing that again? Oh you have of course. A thousand times.

Send me a text. You may as well. I will answer you and I will put a kiss on the end, just to tempt you. I know your heart will surge when you see that and all thoughts of staying away from me will begin to evaporate on seeing that. Text me. Just one text. It is easy enough. I know you haven’t deleted my number despite the promises you have made to do so. You just could not bring yourself to do it.

Call me. Ring me up and tell me what a bastard I am. Go on. Unleash that anger. Let it out. How many times have you sobbed to your friends about what I did to you? What a cruel and heartless bastard I am. I do not deserve you do I? No, but I deserve being told what I have done to you. You need to get it off your chest don’t you? You should. Go on, just press that button and I will answer you and you can let rip at me. Hey, even better, why not suggest we meet up and then you can have that show down that you have always envisaged. I know you have thought through all the things you have wanted to say to me but feel that I prevented you from saying when I just disappeared and then ignored your frantic attempts to get in touch with me. Tell me how broken I left you. Tell me how your friends hate me too. Tell me how your brother is going to batter me. Go on, I know that anger is still raging through you and you need to let it out. Surely after everything you have put up with you are entitled to one last hurrah?

Make that call late at night. I know you are lying in the dark thinking about me, hands entwined around the shirt I left which still smells of my scent. You know you ought to throw it away or burn it but you just cannot do it can you? You still want that connection. You still want to be able to inhale my fragrance and somehow relish the agonised joy as your mind is flooded with my memory. It is a lonely place now that bed isn’t it? Why not send me a text and we can exchange some saucy messages? Rekindle that fire again. It will make you feel better. I might even be tempted to come and see you and take you in your bed once again and let you experience the magic that I possess. The sex was brilliant wasn’t it? I know you cannot lie about that. I have heard what you have said to people about how you hate me but the sex was off the charts. Let’s do it again. Why not? It will make you feel so much better. Just text me, ring me, message me. You just have to reach out because I know you are dying to.

You may as well flick through those pictures again and smile with regret and longing as they evoke all those momentous times from when we were happy together. So many pictures, so many smiles. Have a look at my Facebook profile again. I did not block you. I would not do that. I want you to see how I am doing. Those messages are for you by the way. I am sure that the cryptic comments that I have posted with those pictures will have been picked up on by you and considered and reflected on. Those were for you. I wanted you to know how much I am missing you and you need your daily fix of stalking my social media. Yes, there was somebody else and I know you will have seen and been distraught to know that she was now receiving my love, my perfect love. How that must have burned inside of you as you realised that somebody else was now the recipient. I knew you would but don’t worry, she isn’t a patch on you so why don’t you come and see me and we can start it all again. I know you want to.

Come and see me. Help me. You are the only one who truly knows me. You know more about me than anybody else. The others, huh, they meant nothing to me. They were aberrations but you, you are the real deal. I love you still. I always have. Just come and see me and I will prove it to you. I will make the changes you want me to do and I know you believe in me. You see the good in me don’t you, you are the one who can let it out and help me. Please help me. I just need to be fixed and you are the one with the tools to do it. There is only you. Please don’t let me down. I need you. I will change. I will be better. I promise. Just come and see me and give me the chance to show you. That is only fair isn’t it? You are a fair person, I know you are, that is why I love you so much.

Come on, just get in touch with me and all this pain can go away. There is no need for it. You just need to press those buttons, dial that number or best of all just turn up. Imagine how romantic it will be. You turning up unexpectedly (but not really) in the rain and I sweep you into my arms again and everything will be good and golden and great once again. Do it. Do it. Give me the dressing down. Come to bed with me. Kiss me again. Tell me how you feel. Offer me forgiveness. Let me know what has happened to you. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Do it. Do it. Get in touch. Reach out. Stop the pain. End the hurt. Bring back the joy. Resurrect us. Ignite the passion. Let love reign. Do it. You can do it. I believe in you. End this agony. Let it go. Berate me. Love me. Chastise me. Fuck me. Hate me. Contact me. Contact me. Contact me.

 

I can hear my ‘phone ringing.

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Life is Sweet

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An ex-girlfriend, I forget which one it was, told me that living with me was hell. I laughed. I said hell was living a mundane life. Hell was being a cookie-cutter who brought no influence to bear on the world or people’s lives. Imagine, not mattering ? It makes me shudder. I am not ordinary. I am not average. I am special and there is a very good reason why I am special. I change people’s lives. I have that magic touch. I will arrive into your world and shake it up. I will spin you around and fill your life with a passion and a light that you never knew was possible. Each day will be a new, magical adventure as you are brought to life. Your existence finally has meaning as you realise that you and I were meant to be together. You sense new purpose at long last. Most likely you have endured hardship in some forms. Not any more, I have arrived to give you the attention you deserve. I highlight the many wonderful traits that you have. You will take greater pride in your appearance. You will work harder. You will keep your home tidier as you realise all these things please me. By pleasing me you will benefit. I will join you in your interests. I will easily fit in with all your friendship groups who will welcome me with open arms and praise you on your choice of being with me. Life is good. Before you were just going through the motions as you stumbled along the treadmill of life. Now your dreams have been realised and you have a soulmate. A beautiful, caring, charismatic, energetic and entertaining soulmate. My kiss causes you to tingle, the sound of my voice on the phone creates yearning. My gifts are thoughtful, apt and received with breathless anticipation. I will surprise you by bringing you some lunch to work and include your favourite meal. I will arrive unexpectedlt when you are having drinks with your friends and make you feel special as I regale you before them demonstrating the sincerity of my love for you. Your family will admire my solid work ethic and clear desire to look after you. Life is so sweet. I am almost too good to be true aren’t I?

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I’m Too Sexy

I am an accomplished lover. I know I am.I have been told so on many occasions. Plus the noise, the pupil dilations, spasming and orgasmic flush all tell the same story. I know what I am doing and I do it to great effect. My sexual performance is a matter of great pride to me. I look after myself so I have plenty of stamina. I am an expert in studying body language (how do you think I got hold of you in the first place?) and what it conveys. I want to be the best so I will work damn hard to ensure that you enjoy it to the full when we go to bed. I don’t actually enjoy love-making that much. I actually prefer knowing how much what I do thrills you. Not because I want you to feel good, but because knowing I have that power over your reaction to my mouth, to my tongue, my fingers and so on, is intoxicating to me. I strive for perfection and that translates into me giving you the time of your life between the sheets. It also serves the purpose of making you want me with an unrivalled passion. You love how I make you feel, so you want more and thus you attach yourself to me all the more. In fact, so powerful is my sexual allure and performance you will often dismiss other things as inconsequential, just to ensure you get your fix.

Of course, causing you to be addicted to me in this way only serves to empower me so that I will deny you love-making when I want to punish you and upset you. As with all my forms of withdrawal and belittlement, this acts as fuel for me. I have to say however that pushing you away when you reach across the bed or try to unbutton my trousers when I am sat in the living room really is a crushing blow to you. You cannot understand how such a passionate, accomplished lover can now show no interest in you. You try all your tricks to lure me into bed but they will not work. I am the one who ensnares, not you. Remember, it does not matter to me that we don’t make love. I find it a maintenance chore after a time, I would much rather deny it to you and watch you crumble.

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Forbidden Fruits

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The concept of something being off limits means nothing to me. I am entitled to take what I want. That promotion at the office ? My name is already on the door. I won’t secure it by working hard. Oh no. I will take the credit for the endeavour of others. I will embark on a rigorous campaign to derail your own attempts to secure the advancement. Bought a new car which I regard as superior to mine. Not much good with the tyres slashed is it? Or strange how the police keep pulling you over on suspicion of drink driving isn’t it? Everything is a legitimate target to me. Everything is in play.

I will engage in repeatedly reckless behaviours to get what I want. I do not care whose lawn I park my tanks on, I go where I want. I will not respect your boundaries because I just do not see them. What I love to do most of all however is take something precious belonging to you. On the lesser end of the scale I will hide possessions which you value or I will break them. Naturally, I will blame someone else, usually you. The scale of hurt increases. I will worm my way into your friendship group and cause them to like me more than you by a combination of a charm offensive (call in the love bombers) and a carefully orchestrated smear campaign of nasty whispers (you’ll never guess what she said about you) with the ultimate aim of you being edged out of the group. I will then walk away from the group because I am really not interested in them, I just wanted to get at you. At the top of the tree is the forbidden fruit of stealing someone else’s partner. Often these people will be in a solid and decent relationship but such is the level of my charm, such is the attention to detail I apply in tracking my prey, it is just a question of time before I pull them away from you. I will wreck relationships. I will shatter marriages. All to feed my hunger. As ever, once I have drained the flesh and juices from the forbidden fruit, I shall discard it and leave a battered, empty husk as I move on to the next piece of low hanging fruit. Now you know what the serpent in the garden of Eden was. Me.

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