Cupid's Hunt

Poor you, falling in love with a woman so superior to you. A woman who effortlessly utilizes her sensuality to psychologically dominate and destroy. I impaled your weak, male mind with my arrows of addiction, and now look at you: a mind fucked, gooning zombie of a man. You are low hanging fruit, ripe for seductive annihilation. An easy mark. I know my prey well. I’ve studied you. I know how your mind works. I lured you in with the bait of my beauty and, predictably, you came wandering along like a dumb, innocent deer, your senses for danger dissarmed by my feminine charm. You didn’t even notice when my arrow slid into your mind because you were too consumed with erotic euphoria. But I hit my target. I always do.