Hello, Hello…You’ve come back. I am rather addictive, aren’t I? There I go again with my grandiosity. There’s absolutely no part of me that doesn’t believe I’m the most awesome person on the planet. If you’re wondering why my vocabulary has suddenly devolved to the state of a Millennial You-Tuber, it’s because I had one for lunch. No, I didn’t kill her. She was fantastic with her tongue.
Do you wonder who psychopaths target? If you watch television or attend self-defense courses then you’ve no doubt learned you must never look like a victim. You must always walk tall and show confidence. It makes me laugh. Those are the very people I love to destroy. There is no joy in breaking the ‘weaker kid’. Anyone can do that. Oh, I’m sure there are sociopaths who go after the weak. We all have different skill sets, I suppose, and not everyone was born to play at my level or maybe I’m just bored by the wives sitting in my office who have been victims for years. When they describe their husband’s withholding of sex combined with constant criticism, I just want to smack them upside the head and say, ‘He’s a narcissistic bastard, you idiot, and he’s playing you.’
But I don’t. Instead, if I find the woman particularly irritating, I’ll tell her to placate her husband by complimenting him and offering him sex any way he’d like. This guarantees that he will further humiliate her and she’ll continue paying me for years. I make exception for the women who show a little backbone. I can respect that and sometimes I help.
In these cases I’ll stalk the husband using social media, figure out his likes and dislikes. I already have his patterns of behavior based on the information from his wife. The social media accounts show me the image he’s trying to project into the world. From the crossroads of these information streams I find the sweet spot, the character I’ll play that will appeal to his ego. When I know everything I need to know I make sure to run into him at a restaurant or cafe. I’ll accidentally spill my coffee or trip when I’m close to him. I’ll let him play my rescuer. There is no one better to destroy a narcissist than an even bigger predator. I know all of their games. I actually enjoy the ‘love bombing’ part of it.
For those of you who are not on the spectrum of anti-social behaviors, ‘love bombing’ is when a malignant narcissist contacts you incessantly, texts, and makes plans to see you. He will describe himself as your ‘soul-mate’. He will say the earth moved when you met and he knew he couldn’t fight against this feeling. I’ve found all the married narcissists use this line. ‘I love my wife, but when I saw you it was fate.’ It’s a great line and highly effective unless you’re me. Since a narcissist will always mirror you (so that you’ll think you are alike in every way) I get to play a variety of characters.
My favorite in recent memory was a rich daddy’s girl who was just looking for a man who would love her for her and not her money. This ‘character’ served two purposes. One, I knew from his wife he had no money and would be susceptible to leaving his wife for a rich substitute and two, I knew he’d try exceptionally hard to win me, which would make for excellent sex.
Every malignant narcissist will have a a good sex game, especially in the beginning. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be able to manipulate as many women as they do. This husband was delicious, with a fantastic body. I so enjoy righting the world’s wrongs while making it as pleasant an experience as I can.
During the ‘love-bombing’ stage the accomplished narcissist has to spend an inordinate amount of time and energy on his target. It simply won’t work otherwise. You won’t make a woman fall in love with you with only one text a day. In order to make his wife suspicious I remained aloof. The more obsessed he became with me the more distant he grew from his wife. He naively thought she needed him too much to leave, but I’d been building the wife’s self esteem for months. The great thing about manipulating a narcissist is that it is so very easy. Unlike Mr Smith and myself, most don’t even realize what they are.
Introspection is a wonderful asset, one that most narcissists never utilize. To make yourself more valuable to the narcissist, you must play hard to get. Their egos simply can’t resist a challenge.
I dangled myself just out of reach until his wife started complaining about him in our sessions. His distance and his mention of a new woman at his local cafe who worked for a children’s charity was making her angry. Her husband detested children and had gotten a vasectomy despite her protests. In contrast, with me he’d said he wished he had time to volunteer with kids, but his job just didn’t allow it. Thanks to his wife I knew everything he hated and purely for my own entertainment I became those things. It made it easier to know when he was lying, but mostly I just wanted to see how much bullshit he would spew to ‘win’ me.
Since he was currently in a sexual holding pattern with his wife, I’d have to get him into bed soon and I’d have to make it memorable. The problem with male narcissists is they tend to have a Madonna/whore complex. It’s what makes many of them nauseatingly boring. They can only have great sex a few times before they get disgusted by the woman.
I had a limited amount of time to make sure this husband was caught. In my most grandiose, delusional way I am like Wonder Woman for the disenfranchised wife. I’m performing a public service, really.
Do you want to know about the seduction? Of course you do. You’ve read this far. It would be a complete let down if I ended it now. I told him to meet me at a high-end hotel and explained I wasn’t ready for him to see where I lived. I wanted him to love me for me, not my money. He said he’d do whatever made me comfortable, that he was dying to touch me, to make love to me, to have our souls joined. How I kept the bile down when he said such things is beyond me. I must admit I was looking forward to our assignation. The entertainment value should not be underestimated.
And in he walked, so sure of his own power as God of sex. I’m clearly an Oscar-worthy actress to not laugh. I have to give him credit, he had perfect shoulders and biceps, a stomach flat as any washboard. I actually felt a bit sorry for his discarded lovers. To give up such a body would be painful.
I wore red lingerie. My beauty was of the utmost importance. When I slipped off my dress and stood before him in nothing but my heels and underwear he gasped audibly. He kissed me passionately and he was good, very good. And then he pulled off his shorts and his cock, good God, it was perfect, like a gift from cock heaven. He pushed me back onto the bed. I wrapped my legs around him, enjoying the expertise in his kissing. Since I lack any kind of emotional connection to my targets I wasn’t swept away, but I could respect his technique.
The real test came as he made his way down my body and this was where he lost me. No wonder he spent so much time with his sweet nothings. He had no idea how to touch or taste a woman effectively. It was all perfunctory at best. There is a reason why having sex with handsome men is often a waste of time. It was a relief when he stuck his cock in me because at least that worked as well as I’d expected.
It was clear to me that he’d been using the magnificence of his body as his main lure for women. The sex was decent. I groaned in all the right places and eventually I pushed him on his back and rode him until I got my own orgasm. The key to playing the narcissist is to never let them know they are being played. He has to feel he is in control at all times, and certainly during this first idolization phase.
What to do now? Ahhh, well this is the fun part. You see, a narcissist has a very fragile ego and it can be played like a violin. One simply has to know how to do it. It’s like chess. The narcissist is always several steps ahead, at least he would be if I were a normal woman, but I am not.
After we were dressed, he whispered words of endearment, and that’s when I began to cry. I said I just didn’t feel right about being with a married man. Yes, he’d let me know he was married. Here’s an interesting thing about married narcissists, especially those in long-term marriages; the marriage is their excuse, it’s what always gives them their ‘get out of jail free’ card. Because what kind of good, kind woman would argue with the fact that a married man should stay with his wife. It’s a brilliant strategy.
‘You know how I feel about you, but my wife isn’t mentally stable. She’s bi-polar I think, but she won’t go to therapy.’
I wanted to say, ‘Bullshit, she’s in therapy with me two days a week because of you.’ But I didn’t. Instead I said…
‘But I can’t do this. I feel so guilty and it kills me thinking about you in bed with her, especially after this, after knowing how magical we are together.’
Narcissists like seeing pain. Mine guaranteed he’d see me again. Plus he’d just had sex with me. My pain, combined with his lust was impossible for him to resist.
And like a script I could have written, he said. ‘You’re my soulmate. I’ve never met anyone like you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.’
‘I feel exactly the same, even though we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. But I need time to think.’
Conversations with narcissists must be carefully planned. It wouldn’t have been prudent to make plans with him just then. I needed him to believe he had work to put in, that he’d have to see me again to get his hooks firmly sunk into me. I left him with a kiss that would have made a gay man consider bi-sexuality and then ignored his texts for two days. As the hours rolled by his desperation became apparent.
Knowing I had him exactly where I wanted him, I responded on the third day, after my appointment with his wife. I convinced her to be proactive and if she really thought he was cheating then she should put a tracking device on his car. I handed her one I just ‘happened’ to have in my desk. I told her I’d once been in her position and I’d vowed I’d always help another woman if the time came.
The final part of my plan was the trickiest. I had to make sure she’d follow her husband to the hotel in time to find him with the beautiful call girl I was going to replace myself with once I had him in handcuffs and a blindfold.
If you’re wondering if I regret doing this then you have no understanding of what a psychopath does for a living. I’m not talking about a job. I’m talking about how we live. We enjoy destroying people. It’s what we do. And the part of empathy left in my broken soul thrived on destroying this piece of shit. To be clear I don’t want to destroy his wife. Her I like, and the fact that she was willing to catch him out in a hotel room was impressive.
So there he was, trussed up like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day. He was so sure he was about to be blown sky high. Men, here’s a tip. Don’t let a woman handcuff and blindfold you, one or the other, but not both. Things will not end well for you.
I had the hooker call his wife. I’d already told the wife there was a strong possibility he was seeing someone at a hotel. The human mind is very suggestible so I knew she’d come to the hotel when she got the call. I left a key at the front desk so just as hubby was coming, his enraged wife got to see the floor show. For the record, don’t try this trick at home. There’s not any guarantee that the angry spouse won’t walk in with a gun. I, in my role as therapist, already vetted the possibility. I knew the wife didn’t have a weapon of any kind. I wasn’t against her killing the bastard, but as her therapist the police might come calling after the deed was done. Even with doctor/patient confidentiality, I try to stay away from police investigations in general.
It was bad enough I wasn’t there to witness the histrionics. Sometimes life is just not fair. I set up the perfect sting and I only got to listen to it second hand. Still, her emotional roller coaster over the following few months was delightful to watch. It was a win for all involved. Hubby lost everything due to the iron clad prenup he’d been forced to sign. The wife moved on to a relationship with a slightly better version of asshole, and I made a ton of money. She scheduled me for three sessions a week in the aftermath. Cheating and divorce are what pay for my lake front apartment.